Passamaquoddy Impromptu
by Esther-Channah
Summary: Season 3 AU. Diverges from canon during S3;E15 (Quiet Minds). Instead of leaving Gold in the woods, Emma decides that the wisest course of action is to get him out of Storybrooke temporarily and away from Zelena's control. Their destination? A quiet town on Passamaquoddy Bay... Crossover with Pete's Dragon (1977). Eventual Rumbelle. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Passamaquoddy Impromptu**

Disclaimer: Disney owns OUAT and Pete's Dragon. All Pete's Dragon references are to the 1977 film, not the 2016 remake.

 **Chapter One**

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, blotting out what she didn't want to see. Maybe when she opened them again, she'd be back in bed, in Manhattan, and this would all be a dream. Henry would be in the kitchen having breakfast before school. Storybrooke wouldn't exist. Neal would…

Unconsciously, her hand moved to her throat, to where the silver locket he'd just given her hung on its chain. She smelled the damp earth and pine needles of the Maine forest, heard Gold's muffled sobs over the wind's rustling, and felt the weight of Neal's head in her lap. She opened her eyes to the reality around her before tears filled them and blurred it once more.

Neal was dead. Neal was dead and she was responsible. Oh, he'd asked her to do it. It had been the right thing to do. The only way to learn the Witch's identity had been to separate Neal's consciousness from his father's, even though they'd both known that it would kill him. He'd made that sacrifice, but it had been her magic that had made it possible. She'd loved him and lost him and found him years later and fallen in love with him all over again—only to lose him forever. She had done this and she would have to live with it.

Gold's breath hitched and his head, buried in his hands, sunk lower. Emma closed her eyes again. Whatever grief and guilt she was feeling right now could only be a pale fraction of what Gold was experiencing. He'd literally carried Neal's spirit inside him for months at the cost of his own sanity, and he would have continued to pay that price, had it been an option.

Carefully, gently, Emma eased Neal's head to the leafy ground, slid closer to Gold, and placed a cautious hand on his shoulder. Gold clutched at it for a moment. Then he looked up and took a deep breath. "You have to go," he whispered, releasing her. "Stop Zelena. Bae sacrificed himself to give you that chance. Don't…" His voice broke. "Don't let it be in vain."

Emma nodded. "I'm parked on the side of the highway about five minutes from here. I can give you a lift into town."

Gold shook his head. "Just go. Leave me here with my boy."

Emma started to obey. Then she took another look at Gold and slid back down. "I can't leave you here."

"You have to," Gold replied. "Zelena has my dagger. You know what that means." At Emma's startled nod, he continued, his voice almost gentle. "I can't go back to town. Zelena can use me against every one of you—and she will, if she thinks it will hurt me. The important thing now is that the others know who she is. You need to tell them before she can make me stop you. Get the dagger away from her. That is the only way that you can help me now."

Her eyes were burning with unshed tears again. She blinked them back. Then she took a long look at Neal, knowing that she was seeing him for the last time. She was about to bid Gold goodbye as well, when she thought of something. "Gold?" She gripped his sleeve to get his attention. "How is leaving you here going to keep the town safe?"

He shook his head. "It's not. But it will buy you time. And it will keep the people I care about safe. For now. Emma. I've already lost Bae. Don't make me lose Belle, too. Please." A sob escaped him. "Please. You have to go."

He sighed in relief when she released him. Then his head jerked up when he realized that she hadn't moved. Instead, she'd taken out her phone. "What are you doing?" he demanded sharply.

"Texting my father everything you just told me and asking him to get Regina to help him with the witch. And asking him to look after Henry for a little while. Come on."

"What?"

Emma took a deep breath. "As long as you're in Storybrooke, Zelena can control you. It's just a matter of time before she orders you to do what you're dreading. I'm getting you out of here."

Gold was already shaking his head. "You can't abandon—"

"I'm not. This isn't permanent. This is… taking a couple of days to catch our breaths and come up with a plan. If the others can't get the dagger away from Zelena, then I can return on my own and come back for you later." She took another breath. "Look. If there's one thing I know, it's that whichever side you wind up helping? That's the side that's got the best chance of winning. The way I see it, if you're out of town, Zelena doesn't have you helping her. And," she touched his shoulder again, "if you just can't face doing anything for anyone right now… I understand. Even if you aren't up to helping us, if you come with me now, at least she can't use you against us." She closed her eyes. "Gold, I'm going to have to tell Henry that I had to let his father die. Please, don't make me have to tell him that I turned my back on his grandfather, too."

Gold flinched at that. Then, slowly, with Emma's help, he struggled to his feet. "Five minutes away, you said?"

"That's right."

"Let's move."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Neither spoke as they made their way along the faint hiking trail. Gold moved like a man in a fog, barely paying attention to the way. He stumbled over a large tree root and Emma seized hold of his upper arm to steady him.

She had to force herself not to recoil. The woolen fabric of his suit jacket was greasy to the touch and when Gold nodded to her that he was all right and shrugged free, Emma was shocked to see grime coating her fingertips. She'd thought that Gold must have tripped a few times in the woods to look so disheveled, but now she realized that she'd been mistaken—or fooling herself, not wanting to think about how long he must have been wearing that suit. Emma remembered her time in both the Enchanted Forest and Neverland; how after the first couple of days in the wild, hot showers and clean clothes had become obsessions. For a man as fastidious as Gold, a man whom she'd never seen in casual clothes, a man who wore a full apron over his habitual suits to go digging in the woods, something like that had to be a torture all its own.

Hot fury roiled up within her, a rage she hadn't felt since that day almost two years ago in the Storybrooke hospital, when she'd finally realized that Henry had been telling the truth about the Curse all along and she'd been too stubborn to see it. Zelena had a lot to answer for.

She realized that she'd fallen back and that Gold was now looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to point out the direction to take. She jerked her head to indicate the path and quickened her pace. "It's not much farther," she murmured. A moment later, she caught a glimpse of her yellow Beetle through the foliage and headed toward it.

As they broke through the cover of the trees, Gold's eyes darted nervously in all directions. "It's not safe here in the open," he whispered. "She has spies everywhere."

Emma nodded and hurried to unlock the passenger door. "Sorry," she muttered. "Old car. No remote for the doors." Gold said nothing, barely waiting for her to hold the door open before he practically flung himself into the seat. By the time Emma got in, he had his seatbelt on.

"Hurry," he urged, as she put her key in the ignition. "Now that Bae…" His voice broke. "When we shared a mind, I could sometimes resist Zelena's commands. Now that he's gone, if she summons me before we can cross the town line…"

Emma nodded and put her foot on the gas. "One good thing about being sheriff," she muttered. "I don't have to worry about speeding tickets."

She fought hard not to wrinkle her nose. It hadn't been as noticeable out in the open, but enclosed in the car cabin, she couldn't help but be aware of the odor coming from the seat next to her. She said nothing, though, guessing that Gold would probably be mortified by the subject.

"Emma!"

Emma's eyes widened, as she saw the town line approaching, and three flying monkeys circling in the air above it. "I see them," she said through clenched teeth. "I don't suppose you know how fast they can fly?" When Gold didn't answer, she gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "Let's hope it's less than ninety miles an hour," she said. "Hang on!"

The next thirty seconds seemed to stretch forever. The monkeys dived toward them. One landed on the hood of the car and immediately spread its arms wide, blocking most of the windshield. Emma heard Gold cry out, as she fought to keep driving. She knew that the road ran straight ahead for at least three miles past the line. She just had to keep going straight. The monkeys were magical, they couldn't cross the line. They couldn't…

One monkey leered at her through the driver-door window, another slammed into the opposite side. Gold gasped and bent over, tucking his head to his lap. He didn't scream, and Emma was glad of it. She closed her eyes—it wasn't as if they were helping much and if this didn't work, she didn't want the last image in her mind to be all those teeth and those blood-red eyes—and slammed her foot onto the gas. The monkeys veered off shrieking as they crossed the line. In her rear-view mirror, Emma saw the back of the 'Leaving Storybrooke' sign shimmer and disappear, leaving nothing but an empty road behind them. She slowed down to sixty and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Gold?" She glanced at her passenger. "We made it. We're clear."

Gold peered out at her from the crook of his elbow, his brown eyes almost as wide as saucers. Then he slowly unlaced his fingers and straightened up. He was perspiring and his face, already pale from who knew how long he'd been in confinement, had a grayish tinge to it.

"Sorry for the rough exit. I think we're safe now. Uh, there should be a couple of granola bars in the glove compartment, if you're hungry." There should be a whole box of them. They came in handy when she was on a stakeout, and there had been the one time when the fugitive she'd brought in had been a diabetic in need of a sugar boost.

He nodded, but made no move to open the compartment. Instead, he leaned back in the seat, shut his eyes, and took several long, slow breaths.

"You okay?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. After being Zelena's prisoner, after losing Neal, after the monkey attack, that had to be one of the stupidest things she could have asked and she braced herself for a blunt retort along those lines.

Instead, Gold drew a breath. "My ankle," he said in a low voice. "Magic masked the old injury in Storybrooke, but out here, I'm afraid it's going to be bothersome."

Emma took her right hand off of the steering wheel and laid it over Gold's. "We'll manage." She eyed her dashboard and sighed. "I'm going to need to stop for gas soon anyway. Maybe I'll just take the next exit." There was a sign coming up and she waited until it was close enough for her to read. "Hopefully there'll be a Walmart or a Walgreens in…" Oh boy. She blinked at the long string of letters and sounded them out under her breath. "…Passamaquoddy," she finished triumphantly.

* * *

"I should just be a minute," Emma said, as she pulled up to the pump. "I'll ask for directions when I go in to pay. You sure you don't want to get out of the car?"

Gold shook his head. "Even if my ankle wasn't an issue, I can hardly go out looking like this."

He had a point. "I'll ask about that, too. I'm not sure if we can find Armani around here, but…"

"That's hardly a concern at the moment," Gold replied, sounding for a moment not unlike his former self.

"Do you want me to pick you up anything inside?"

Gold shook his head.

"Okay." She had the door open and her feet on the asphalt, when Gold called after her.

"Emma? Thank you."

She smiled. "I won't be long." She shut the door behind her and set about filling the tank. As she did, she looked around. The gas station looked like any of a million she'd seen before in her travels. She didn't recognize the name of this one; it was probably part of a smaller chain. Or were there any independent stations left in this part of the world? She wondered.

She passed a girl of about Henry's age on her way into the station. She was sitting on a bench in front of the building and sucking on a grape popsicle. She smiled as Emma brushed past her and Emma grinned back.

Once she'd paid for the gas, she made her inquiries and the attendant, a sober-looking man in his late forties, considered for a moment. "Well, you know Ms… uh…" he glanced down at her credit card, "…Ms Swan, the tourist season's over now, so a lot of businesses have closed down or cut their hours. Now, the nearest Walmart's up in Calais, about twenty miles from here. But I'd hardly be a good neighbor if I didn't at least try pointing you toward some of our locals. Now…" he rummaged under his desk for a moment and came up with a tourism map. "If you'll just…Oh!" He looked past her for a moment.

"'Lo, there, Nora," he said, smiling.

Emma looked over her shoulder to see the girl from outside, holding up another popsicle.

"It's _Leonora_ , Mr. Coleman," she said importantly.

"Ah, of course. Pardon me, Ms Swan," he said, turning back to Emma, "but would you mind if I just rang this young lady through before her snack melts? It won't be but a minute."

"Sure," Emma said, moving out of the way. "Go right ahead."

"Thank you. Now, then, _Lee_ -oh…" Coleman's voice trailed off. "Oh… my… what in the world…?"

Emma spun around to look out the window. What she saw made her heart lurch. "GOLD!" she exclaimed, running out of the store, one hand reaching under her jacket for her gun.

There were four flying monkeys surrounding her bug. One of them was reaching inside—Gold must have rolled down the window to get some air.

As Emma raced toward them, she was wondering how she could have been stupid enough to think that the monkeys couldn't cross the town line. She damned well should have known better than that. After all, she'd almost married one…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

She couldn't get a clean shot at this range. By now, there was one monkey perched on the hood and another on the passenger door handle. Each had hold of one of Gold's arms and his head and shoulders were sticking out of the window. He was struggling to break free, but even as she watched, the monkeys pulled him forward another inch.

"Nora!" Coleman was shouting behind her. "Go get your great uncle. NOW!"

"But…"

"Now, Nora! Go!"

Behind her, Emma heard running feet, but she didn't look back. She kept her eyes and gun trained on the car, hoping for a clear target. One monkey's eyes locked on hers and he let out a mocking cackle. Then he deliberately turned his back on her and hopped over to the other side of the Beetle, out of her view. In a flash, she realized that he was trying the driver-side door and remembered that she hadn't locked it. Evidently, though, Gold had, because the next thing she heard was the sound of something battering against the window glass.

The fourth monkey alighted on the roof of the Beetle. Emma set her jaw grimly. She had a clean shot at _that_ one. As she took aim, though, she hesitated. Was it Little John? Bashful? Someone else she knew? As if it were reading her mind, the monkey jeered at her and took to the air again. She adjusted her aim, but held off on pulling the trigger.

She heard Gold cry out and realized that the other monkeys had managed to haul him through the open window. Each had a tight grip on one of his arms. As she watched in horror, the other two monkeys each took hold of an ankle. As the clawed fingers closed around his injured leg, Gold screamed.

That was it. She was taking the shot. But even as she adjusted her aim once more, she realized that they were already too high. If they weren't out of range yet, the risk that she'd accidentally hit Gold instead was still too great.

 _Get in the car and follow them, Emma_ , she ordered herself. _You know where they're going._

But if she could just wing one of the monkeys, then, from the look of it, three of them probably wouldn't be strong enough to haul Gold all the way back to Storybrooke.

And then, she heard a loud roar and a gust of wind knocked her to the ground. The monkeys shrieked again, but this time they sounded neither mocking nor triumphant. Instead she heard terror in their screams, as an invisible force seemed to lash out at them, flinging them away from Gold. Meanwhile, Gold appeared to be hanging in the air, in no danger of falling.

For a moment, Emma wondered whether he'd somehow been able to call on his magic, even outside of Storybrooke, but the expression on his face showed that he was as confused by the change in his circumstances as she was. And then, he floated gently to the ground, landing in a seated position next to her and Emma heard a sort of whuffling sound. Something cool and leathery brushed her cheek and she caught a whiff of charcoal and baked apples. There was a light touch on her shoulder and an unintelligible grunt. Another gust of wind tore at her and she pulled her leather jacket more tightly about her.

And then, as she watched, the monkeys took off howling as something seemed to buffet them, driving them further and further away until they vanished over the horizon.

Emma looked wildly at Gold. "What was that?"

From his bewildered expression, she didn't think that she was likely to get an answer, but after a moment, he shook his head. "I believe it was… No. No, that's not possible. Not here, anyway."

Emma tilted her head. "What isn't possible?"

"They were rare enough back in our land," Gold was muttering. "But to find one here? It can't be."

Just then, a young girl's voice called, "Hurry, Uncle Pete! They…" Then, disappointedly, "oh, they're gone! But they were just here, honest! Flying monkeys!" Emma glanced over her shoulder to see that Nora had returned, and was leading a man who looked to be about Gold's age—which, she reminded herself, proved nothing—in their direction.

"She's right," Coleman said, stepping forward. Emma wondered whether he'd been standing on the gas station's cement curb the entire time, or whether he'd retreated back indoors after sending the girl off. "Not sure where they came from, but they were harassing a couple of customers until _something_ ran them off."

"Did it?" 'Uncle Pete' sounded interested. He directed his attention toward Emma and Gold. "Name's Peter Eddystone, but most people in these parts just call me Pete," he said, holding out his hand. "Are you folks okay?"

Emma and Gold looked at one another and nodded cautiously, each clasping the hand in turn. Introductions seemed called for, so Emma gave their names quickly.

"Flying monkeys," Pete remarked.

Emma tried to smile. "I know it sounds hard to believe."

"Well, it would," Pete admitted. "Except that Leonora and Hiram both saw them and, while Nora's got an imagination I can only envy, Hiram Coleman's never been able to spin a tall tale worth a wooden nickel." He shrugged. "Besides, it's been my experience most people wouldn't come up with a story that farfetched if it weren't true. Most," he added. "I'm not saying I haven't met a snake oil salesman or two, but…" He broke off, frowning. "Uh... What did you say it was that ran them off?"

"We didn't," Gold said, narrowing his eyes.

"Where're you folks headed?"

"Calais," Emma said quickly, remembering the name Coleman had said earlier. "We… had to leave home in a hurry and we need a few supplies."

Pete was silent. Emma realized that he was looking, not at them, but at a fixed point in the sky overhead. And he was grinning openly—which made him look about twenty years younger.

"Uh… Mr. Eddystone? Pete?"

Pete blinked. "I'm sorry. I got distracted for a minute."

"Is that…?" Nora asked excitedly.

"Leonora," there was a warning note in Pete's voice. "Later."

He turned back to Emma and Gold. "Well, if you folks are just passing through, I'll let you get on your way. But, if you don't mind my saying so, you've sort of the look of folks who aren't sure where they're headed and if that's the case, here's as good a place to stop as any." He smiled apologetically. "I'm not being completely honest with you. I run the local motel and tourism's been down this year. Now that the season's over, I probably won't have any more customers until June. And I wouldn't mind a bit more business, even if it's just for a night or two. I'll even cut the rate in half for you."

Emma hesitated. "Uh… could you give us a minute to talk it over?"

Pete nodded, wrapped an arm around Nora's shoulders, and steered her over to Coleman. Emma leaned closer to Gold. "What do you think?"

"I think these people are taking certain things in a far more casual manner than I would have expected," he said. "There's more going on here than meets the eye."

"I get that too," Emma admitted. "They're not lying, though. I don't need my superpower to tell that they're keeping a few things back, but we'd do the same if they were coming through Storybrooke."

"You want to take him up on his offer," Gold translated.

Emma sighed. "I don't know this area and it's going to be dark soon. I thought we'd be safe once we crossed the town line, but if those monkeys can attack us out here, then maybe it makes sense for us to stop someplace where there's something that seems to be on our side that can run them off."

Gold snorted. "Something."

"Their word, not mine."

"Indeed."

"You know what it is? Or _who?_ "

Gold shook his head. "I have an idea, but it's rather farfetched."

"Going by what Pete said, it's probably right, then."

"I wouldn't be so quick to jump to that conclusion," Gold remarked tartly. "But we won't be able to come to any verdict if we leave now." His shoulders slumped. "I'm exhausted," he admitted. "Today has been…"

Emma clasped his hand and he squeezed it fiercely. "I know," she said. "Okay. I'll tell him we'll stay the night."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Seeing as the place is empty," Pete said from the back seat of the Beetle, "you can pretty much have your pick of the units. I'd think you might want one of the cabins; they've got full kitchens, while the motel rooms just have bar fridges and an outlet for a hot plate or coffee machine." Before Emma or Gold had a chance to reply, he added in a slightly louder voice, "Take that left coming up and follow the signs for Eddystone Light Motel."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Eddystone Light? Like in the song?" she asked.

"That's right. And fitting," he added. "I used to live in the old lighthouse, back when it was still standing. Of course now," he said with a faint edge, "everything's modern. Now, it's a flashing light at the top of a steel skeleton. Fully automated. The old one," he sighed. "Well, everything has its day and that one's long over. I'm just glad my grandfather passed on before he had to see it come down. But the motel logo? I had that adapted from a picture I took of it in better days."

"The modern one's not so bad," Nora said.

"You're just saying that because it's the only lighthouse you've ever known," Pete teased.

"No," Nora said seriously. "I'm saying it because it looks like it'd be easier to climb than the old one."

Pete chuckled at that. "Your father takes you rock-climbing once, and you're ready to scale the Passamaquoddy Point Light," he said. "Somehow, I think it's going to be a while before you'll get the opportunity. Thankfully," he added in an undertone, but one meant for them all to hear.

"It's not like I'd try it without safety equipment," Nora muttered.

"And here we are," Pete said. "Office is at the end of the drive. Right. If you folks would care to step inside, I can get you registered in no time.

Emma glanced at Gold. "If you'd rather wait here," she said, thinking about his ankle.

Gold was already unfastening his seatbelt. "After what happened a few minutes ago?" he demanded. "I think I can manage a few steps."

He consented to lean on her though, as they made their way inside.

* * *

"You can borrow this for a day or two," Pete said, returning to the front desk with a carved wooden knob-stick cane and several neatly-folded garments. "I don't care so much about the clothes; if they fit, you're welcome to them, but the cane was my grandfather's in later years and I'd rather not part with it."

"Are you certain you're willing to lend it?" Rumple asked, already reaching for it.

Pete shrugged. "Right now, you need it and I don't. I'd just like it back whenever you check out." His expression turned serious as the cane changed hands.

"I know we'll need to discuss what happened in the parking lot earlier. I think we've all got questions. Maybe they ought to keep until morning, considering that they're likely to be the sort to keep us up half the night talking and I guess you'd probably like to get settled in. Now…" he gave the brochure display carousel on the desk a spin and removed one pamphlet. "These restaurants," he said, marking an 'x' with his pen next to several of the names, "are open all year. And these," he underlined a few of the ones he'd already marked, "will deliver up here. Some charge a fee for it, some don't. Or, if you'd prefer to do your own cooking, there's a grocery store on Main Street."

Leonora, who was industriously pulling out towels and toiletries from a shelfing unit behind Pete and stacking them on the desk, lifted her head for a moment. "I've got a bike," she said, with some pride. "If you want me to pick anything up for you, I'll do it for five dollars a trip, so long as it fits in the basket."

"And so long as you place your order by seven pm," Pete added. "If you place it after eight am, she'll bring it by after school." He smiled indulgently. "Leonora may spend a good part of her time with me, but her parents still think she needs to come home sometime. We tolerate their peculiarities."

"You can't run this place without me," Leonora said, transferring the toiletries to a wicker basket and tucking the towels under her arm.

"I probably could," Pete smiled. "That doesn't mean I'd want to." He slid a key across the counter. "Cabin 3. Nora will direct you. And keep everything from sliding around in your back seat."

Emma picked up the key and slipped it into her jacket pocket. Then she scooped up the pile of clothes. "Thanks," she said. "Seriously."

Pete smiled. "You're not the only person who's had to run a time or two. Or who found Passamaquoddy a good place to stop. And I've got a friend who's generally a pretty good judge of character. He vouched for you."

"You mean, Mr. Coleman?"

Pete blinked. Then he smiled again. "Yeah. Him, too."

* * *

The efficiency cabin wasn't large, but it had two bedrooms, a bath, a small kitchen, and a common area. As soon as Nora departed, Gold made a beeline for the shower as fast as his dignity—and his limp—would allow. Emma settled into one of the bedrooms and placed her change of clothes—Pete had apologized about having no women's garments on-hand, but she could manage with sweatpants and button-down shirts—on the chair in the corner. Then she called her parents.

She wasn't overly surprised to discover that Zelena had given them the slip. Still, "I guess, that means we won't be back tomorrow," she sighed and explained about the monkeys. She left out the part about the unseen force that had come to their aid; she wasn't sure how she could describe it. "…But if they can attack out here, I can't leave Gold by himself. I've got a lot of practice getting by without magic. He doesn't. More to the point, if I come back without him, he'll be stranded here. No car, no money… and if those monkeys come back…"

"Right," David agreed. "Meanwhile…?"

"Meanwhile," Emma echoed, "well, we may not have Henry's book to help us out, but I just downloaded all of the original Oz novels onto my phone. Maybe there's some clue in there."

Snow came on the phone. "I just remembered," she said. "When Zelena came over the first time, there were dishes in the sink. I'd just been about to start on them, but she insisted. I think that probably means that water isn't going to melt her."

Emma stifled another sigh. "I guess it makes a certain amount of sense. If she were that vulnerable to water, she probably wouldn't have realized it until the first time she went out in the rain, and then, that would also be the _last_ time."

"Henry has a lot of questions," David had the phone again.

Emma closed her eyes. "What have you told him?"

"Only that you had to follow up a lead and you called to say you were going to be away overnight. We weren't sure what to tell him about Neal."

"Where is he now?"

"Grumpy took him fishing. They should be coming back pretty soon."

Emma nodded to herself. "I'll call him. Do me a favor? Talk to Belle, tell her what's going on and… see if she has any ideas. We need to figure out what Zelena's after. We need to see if there's a way to change our friends back, because if the monkeys keep attacking, sooner or later, I'm going to have to defend myself and I don't want to end up shooting Bashful or Little John or any of the others. And… if anyone has any other items to add to the list, go for it. I'll work on Gold. Something tells me that he's going to be a lot more interested in helping now than he was when Greg and Tamara activated that failsafe."

They chatted for a bit, hanging up only when David remarked that Henry had just walked in. Emma called him next. He'd clearly had a fun time and she hated to deliver bad news, but she knew it was only going to get harder if she delayed.

"Kid," she said softly, "the reason we came to Storybrooke was because… someone was in trouble and it wasn't a client. It was your father. Some bad people wanted to hurt him. Yeah," she whispered, when Henry asked if she'd found him. "I did. But I was too late to save him." Her eyes were burning again and she fought the lump that was rapidly forming in her throat as she kept talking. "He's… he's dead, Henry. I was too late to help him, but not too late to help his father."

"I have a grandfather?" Henry asked excitedly.

Her tears were brimming over as she continued. "Yeah, kid. You do. And hopefully, this will all be over soon and you can meet him. But that's why I had to leave so suddenly." She took another breath and willed herself to stay calm. "David and Mary-Margaret told me that they'll be happy to look after you, but if anything should happen, if the baby comes early and everyone's at the hospital, if your instincts tell you something's… off, I want you to go to Regina."

"The mayor?"

"She'll protect you if the Nolans can't. Got it?"

There was a brief silence. "Yeah, okay," Henry said finally. "I got it."

"Love you, kid."

"Love you too, Mom."

She ended the call and looked up to see Gold standing in the doorway, wearing a white terry robe over red plaid pajama bottoms. The expression on his face, she thought, had to be a mirror image of her own.

"Emma?" he said hoarsely.

She slid off the bed and walked toward him. It occurred to her that there was probably something she ought to be saying, some words of comfort, some memory to share. Something. But she couldn't think of a one in the maelstrom of emotion that engulfed her now. Neal was gone. Neal was gone and she couldn't hold it together for another minute. "H-he's gone," she whispered, taking another step toward him.

He nodded. "I know." His voice broke on the last syllable.

They reached out for one another and held on for dear life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

By the time Leonora arrived with their food, they'd each managed to regain some level of composure. "You're sure that's all you want?" Emma asked dubiously, as Gold reached for one of the sealed Styrofoam bowls of tomato soup. She was willing to bet that he hadn't had a decent meal in a long time, but when they'd gone over the menu, he'd refused all other options. "These portions look big enough to share."

Gold shook his head. "I can guess what you're probably thinking," he said, not meeting her eyes. "And you're quite right. Zelena did have me on short rations. However, having lived through two famines in my younger days, I can assure you that eating much more than I've grown accustomed to at this point could be dangerous. Perhaps even fatal. It needs to be done gradually."

"I understand," Emma said. "But when this is over and we get back to Storybrooke, you might want to talk to Dr. Whale. He might have some suggestions on how to pace yourself. Meanwhile," she slid the other bowl toward him, "if you're still hungry when you finish, you can have mine. I had no idea that they were going to send up this much food."

Gold glanced up and a surprised smile flashed briefly across his face. "I might take you up on that, Emma. Thank you."

* * *

He finished half of her soup. Once the containers were cleared away, Emma sat back down at the table. "Are you up for reviewing notes and comparing what we know?" she asked.

Gold sighed. "Not the point, dearie," he said, with a shadow of his usual crispness. "It needs to be done and fairly soon, what with your new sibling poised to arrive at any moment." There was a writing desk against one wall and Gold walked over to it and retrieved several sheets of writing paper with the Eddystone Light imprint and a matching pen, before he joined her at the table. "Before we begin, though, I am curious. What happened after I dealt with Pan? I surmise that Regina was successful in recasting the curse, but if so, how is it that we aren't back in the Enchanted Forest?"

Emma's face fell. "I was actually hoping that you could tell me," she admitted. "This is what I know happened. The only way that Regina could stop Pan's curse was if she gave up the thing she loved most."

"Henry!" Gold exclaimed. "But… he's alive; you were speaking with him."

"Gave up," Emma emphasized. "Not killed. Right before the curse hit, she told me to get in my car and take Henry over the town line. She explained to me that when it hit, it would wipe away everything about Storybrooke, including our memories. And… she told us she'd give us new ones. She'd make it be as though I'd never surrendered him. We'd always been together." Her eyes softened. "She did it. And then, we had a year. We were in New York. I was… seeing someone. Life was great. Until last week, when Hook showed up at my door with a memory potion, telling me my family needed me."

Gold sniffed. "So, he destroyed your happy life, too."

"Well, my boyfriend morphing into a flying monkey might have contributed. Long story short, I took the potion. There was only enough for me. Henry still doesn't remember anything about growing up in Storybrooke, or Neverland, or… or magic..."

"And yet, he's visiting what might be the only place on Earth where magic exists in any appreciable quantity, while there's a wicked witch on the loose."

Emma rested her forehead in her hand. "If there'd been time to bring him with us, I would have."

Gold shook his head. "I know. I wasn't castigating you, just making an observation."

"So, how did everyone end up back in this world?"

Gold shook his head. "I don't know. I remember stabbing Pan—and myself. I remember the pain. There was a flash. And then… I…" He frowned. "I found myself in that cage in the witch's cellar. Until you separated us," he whispered, "I didn't remember what I'd done to keep Bae alive. I still don't remember coming back. When we came apart, I saw the symbol burned into his palm and I knew what he must have done and what I had to have done in turn, but I don't remember how it happened or how Zelena got my dagger, or…" His shoulders slumped.

"Easy," Emma said. "It's okay. I just thought that…" She shook her head. "Sorry. You had your memories during the last curse. I thought maybe you would this time, too."

"No," Gold replied. "And even for most of the first Curse, I didn't."

"What?"

Gold sighed. "You met Jefferson. Two minds… or two sets of memories. One head can't contain either for long without going mad. You found that scroll with your name on it in my old cell. You asked me afterwards why I wrote it so many times. I meant for it to be a trigger, to restore my memories shortly before the curse broke for good. Doing so… put me in a position to steer you toward what you needed to accomplish. When you decided to remain in Storybrooke, you checked in at Granny's and gave her your name for the register. If you recall, I was there to collect the rent. Had I not been, sooner or later, someone would have spoken your name. It was only when I heard it that I remembered. Not before."

"Oh." Emma was silent for a time, mulling that over. Finally, she spoke again. "So, you don't know who Zelena is."

Gold snorted. "Oh, I know who she is. I met her long ago, under different circumstances. I presume that you're familiar with a line that William Congreve wrote in _The Mourning Bride_? 'Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury,'" he smiled faintly, "'like a woman scorned'." He sighed. "She's Regina's elder sister. Half-sister."

Emma's eyes widened. "What?"

"Cora had another daughter, whom she gave up. Had I known about her then…" His voice trailed off. Then he shook his head a bit ruefully. "Well, that's water under the bridge. Zelena came to me looking for instruction in the use of her magic. At the time, I was already training Regina along those lines. She hoped to replace her sister as my pupil."

"In the woods," Emma said, remembering, "when you told me she was the witch, you said that she wanted what she didn't have."

"Correct. Zelena sees everything that Regina has, and has had in the past. She doesn't notice the price Regina's had to pay for it. When Zelena came to me, I'm convinced that she was less interested in learning from me than she was in supplanting her sister."

"But Regina's magic is more powerful."

Gold shook his head. "Quite the contrary. Zelena has always been far more gifted. However, there were two issues that could not be gotten 'round. First, at that time, Regina wasn't as strong-willed. I needed someone… malleable." Something on Emma's face must have given away what she was thinking, because Gold sighed. "I did what was necessary. I'm not proud of it, but neither am I ashamed. And I never forced her to cast the curse; I only allowed her to appreciate the benefit to her."

Emma was still scowling. "Fine," she snapped. "I guess that's more water under the bridge, and we can't afford to get sidetracked—but I'm beginning to see why she's hated you so much. What was the second thing?"

"Heaven has no rage…" Gold repeated softly.

Emma's jaw dropped. "What?" she asked incredulously. "She fell in love with you?"

"I'm a difficult person to love, Ms Swan, but occasionally, someone manages it." He smirked. "She did indeed. And that presented quite the difficulty, considering that all magic comes with a price and the price for casting the Dark Curse…"

 _Oh, Hell._ "She would have had to rip out your heart!" Emma exclaimed.

"Exactly. I couldn't groom someone to cast the curse to bring me to this world to look for my son, if she was going to crush my heart to do it." He sighed. "And when I told her as much, well, her original plan was always to take for herself everything that Regina had. She modified it to include a bit of vengeance toward me for choosing Regina over her." His eyebrow shot up. "I'm not sure that your mother didn't do Cora a favor, removing her from the board early."

Emma sighed. "Any idea how to stop her?"

Gold nodded soberly. "You."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"Me?" Emma echoed.

Gold nodded again. "Light magic," he clarified. "It's Zelena's one weakness. Well," he added in an undertone. "It's her one magical weakness. She has a few buttons you might be able to press, though the results will likely be less predictable."

"Sure," Emma said, her words coming out at a rush, "b-but I'm not the only one who can wield light magic. I mean, there's Blue… Tink… all the other fairies…"

"…none of whom possess anywhere near enough power to do what needs done," Gold finished. "Please tell me that over the course of the last year, you haven't entirely regressed to your previous skepticism. At this point, I've neither the time nor the stamina to attempt to convince you of your capabilities a second time."

Emma half-rose from the table, her eyes flashing dangerously. Then she made a visible effort to control herself. "I know I have magic," she said tightly. "I also know that I don't always have the easiest time getting it to work and it's not as if I've had any practice since we got back from Neverland. Maybe I've got the power, but that doesn't mean I know what to do with it."

A welter of emotions flashed across Gold's face, ranging from understanding to anger to despair. Then he took a deep breath. "You're right, of course," he admitted, his shoulders slumping a bit. "Instruction and practice would make the task easier. Were there magic in this place, I would provide it."

"So… what?" Emma demanded wildly. "You're just going to throw me into the deep end and hope I can swim?"

Gold's eyes went flat and his fist closed around the shaft of his cane. Emma tensed, bracing herself for whatever might happen next. Gold didn't lose his temper often, but when he did, he could be violently unpredictable. For a moment they regarded each other in stormy silence. Then Gold relaxed his grip on the cane and made a visible effort to control himself. "I'm going to ask you a few questions," he said, and though his tone was pleasantly conversational, Emma caught a current of intensity below its surface. "I'd like you to answer them honestly, with either a 'yes' or a 'no'."

Emma settled back down, but her posture was anything but relaxed. "Um… okay."

"Were you able to break the Dark Curse?" he demanded.

"Yes."

"When you broke it, were you aware that your action at that time would accomplish the goal?"

"No."

Gold smiled faintly then. Nodding, he went on. "When Cora attempted to take your heart, did you use magic to stop her?"

"Yes."

"Were you aware that you could use magic before you stopped her?"

"No."

"Did you have any inkling of how to wield magic in theory? In other words, had you observed anyone else using magic observed their technique and thought that you might try it yourself?"

"No."

Gold closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the table tightly. "Last set. Forgive me, but I do have to ask. Do you know how to magically pull one person into another, so that one body houses two souls?"

Emma flinched, realizing where this was leading. "No."

Gold nodded. He blinked rapidly several times in succession and, while his voice dropped lower, it did not falter. "I know… we both know that you were able to separate us. However, were I to ask you to outline, in detail, the steps of the process for doing so, could you provide a coherent explanation?"

Was there a _process_? Neal had told her what she had to do and she'd just… done it. _It took me forever to light a lousy candle in Neverland, but I pulled Neal and Gold apart without having to think about it._ "No."

"And yet, despite your complete ignorance of the complexity of such a matter, were you able to effect such a disentanglement?"

Tears of anger and grief burned her eyes and she blinked them back. "Yes! Damn it."

Gold nodded and smiled sadly. "The Dark Curse. The taking of a heart. Life-force absorption. Emma, these are not simple spells. Consider. In her lifetime, Cora ripped out more hearts than even she could keep track of. She had the knowledge and experience to override all but the most powerful protection spells, hurtling through them as though they didn't exist. And yet, when Cora tried to take your heart, you—with no training, no preparation, and no idea that you could even wield magic nor the slightest inkling of how to go about doing so—not only blocked her attack, you repelled her. In combat terms, you delivered a block and a blow combined. Against one of the masters of that particular art. That feat would be impressive for an accomplished magical practitioner. For you to achieve it with no preparation, no training, and not even the faintest notion that you could wield magic," he snorted, "Well, it would be something I'd have said was impossible, had you not actually done it."

He let that sink in before he continued. "I told you a long time ago that I took advantage of what you were when I designated you to be the instrument that would break the Dark Curse. That was all well and good, but when you arrived in Storybrooke, you arrived with none of the preparation I'd expected when I'd worked your existence into the curse, nearly thirty years earlier. I'd always assumed that your mother would make the trip with you from Our Land and guide you toward your destiny. Instead," his lips twitched, "when you finally arrived in Storybrooke, it was a hard battle to even get you to consider the possibility that magic might exist. Until you did, there was no way that you could believe in your power to override it. It's why Booth and I were so invested in getting you to accept the situation. And once you did, I'd fully expected to have to explain to you what to do to break the curse. I was pleasantly surprised that you figured it out on your own."

"I didn't figure anything out," Emma protested, her voice quavering slightly as she remembered those terrible moments when she'd thought that she'd lost her son. "I… I honestly thought I was kissing Henry goodbye." _If I'd kissed Neal in the woods earlier, could it have made a difference?_ She'd never know now.

"Noted," Gold replied. "That actually supports my theory." He took another breath. He was still holding on to the table and Emma noticed that his knuckles had turned white. "When I absorbed Bae," he went on, his voice growing softer, "it must have been that I hoped that, in time, there might be a loophole—some way to save him from paying the price for the magic he used to bring me back." He shook his head. "Of course, I don't remember precisely what I was thinking at that moment, but I don't think it's something I need to remember to recognize. Understand that when I lost Bae to this… Land Without Magic, I was told that without a magic bean to open a second portal, there was no way to follow him and that he was lost to me forever. I spent close to two centuries proving otherwise. The magic Bae used to resurrect me came at a terrible price. One I never wanted him to pay. But although evading the price of that magic is impossible according to every magical tome that I'm aware of—and I may have read them all—the fact remains: I have been able to achieve what was thought to be impossible before. Given enough time, perhaps I could have saved…" He closed his eyes and covered them with his hand. "The point that I'm trying to make is that the spell I used to combine us should have been one that only I could undo. You broke it with barely a thought."

"Gold, I…"

He exhaled. "I know. But consider, Emma," he said, a bit too briskly. "On three separate occasions, you've demonstrated that you can neutralize magic that is both powerful and complex. You've done so intuitively, with scant—if any—preparation. When it needs to be done, you seem to have a knack for knowing how to do it. You must understand that this… instinctive sort of spell-casting is far from ideal. All magic comes with a price and when you go flinging it about haphazardly without adequate thought or preparation, you may find that the price is greater than any you'd planned on paying. However, judging from your results on those three occasions, I'm reasonably confident that, should you confront Zelena, your intuition will surface yet again."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Reasonably confident?"

Gold sighed. "And there's the fly in the ointment: that skeptical streak of yours can ruin all, should it surface at the wrong time." He leaned forward. "Magic is predicated on belief, Emma. If you doubt that it will work, then I can assure you that it won't."

"I get that," Emma shot back. "I do. But it's one thing for me to believe in magic. It's another thing to think that I can go head-to-head with someone who, no offence, kept you in a cage in her cellar for a year. Seriously, what chance do I have?"

"Are you tethered to a dagger, Ms Swan?" Gold demanded, his temper rising once more. "Are you under some manner of compulsion spell? I can promise you that if Zelena were not currently in possession of _my_ dagger, things would never have reached this point." The softness that grief had lent to his voice had evaporated and he sounded almost exactly like the man he'd been on the deck of the _Jolly Roger_ when he'd told her bluntly that her quest to rescue Henry was doomed and he was striking out on his own. "Now," he said, his tone slow and menacing, "you can continue to wring your hands and make excuses all you want to, but it all comes down to this: You _can_ stop Zelena. You. Nobody else. But it must be your decision to do so. I certainly can't force you—not here, not even in Storybrooke. You can believe me and rise to the occasion, or you can shake your head and back away and Zelena _will_ succeed." He pushed himself away from the table and reached for his cane.

"If you've no further questions, I believe I'll retire. I've neither the patience nor the energy to waste beating my head against this particular wall tonight."

He'd gone no more than five steps when Emma called after him, "I'll do it. You know that. Henry's back there. So are my parents. And Belle. And the rest of the town. I can't abandon them and you know it just as much as I do. I just… I'm scared, okay? I get what you said. I can even admit that you're right. But that doesn't change the fact that my game plan boils down to going off to confront the Wicked Witch of the West and hoping to hell that I can figure out what to do when I'm face to face with her. Excuse me for being scared the hell out of my mind that I won't!"

Gold regarded her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "If I could see a better way, Emma, I'd let you know," he said finally. Then he disappeared into the other bedroom.

Whatever energy or force of will had been keeping her awake seemed to leave with him and it was suddenly an effort for her to keep her eyes open. Yawning, she got up from the table and headed for her own bed.

* * *

As soon as her head touched the pillow, she was wide awake again. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but the events of the day kept replaying. Finally, she reached for her phone and checked the time, thinking that it had to be getting close to dawn.

It wasn't even eleven o'clock. She noticed that there was a text message waiting from her mother. After she'd read it, she got up and padded barefoot to the kitchen. She hadn't had room for dessert earlier and, although she knew that emotional eating was about as healthy as the lemon meringue pie she was about to partake of, at the moment, she didn't care.

She was still smarting from Gold's verbal chastisement. Damn him. He was a smarmy manipulative coward who had once been ready to murder his own grandson. And tonight, he had been absolutely, one hundred percent right. She was the savior. She had to stop Zelena. She was the only one who could. That didn't mean that Gold had had to lay things on the line so… brutally.

 _He tried to be gentle until you kept making excuses. You called it earlier: when he thought Neal was dead, and the failsafe was going to destroy the town, he was ready to let the destruction take him and let the rest of us rot. This time, even though_ he's _safe, instead of washing his hands of everyone, he's telling you, as best he can, what you need to do to save everyone else—and you know he's never been that altruistic. He could just keep running and leave the town to Zelena. You, of all people, know how easy it is to run away…_ Her eyes widened. _Because you were getting too damned close to doing it too, and Gold saw it before you did._

She got the pie out of the fridge, stuck her fork in it, and took an angry bite. The problem was, she didn't know whether she was angrier at Gold or at herself. Maybe she was directing her emotions toward the wrong target. Maybe it was time to get angry at Zelena. Angri _er_ , anyway. She went back to her room to grab her smartphone and start reading the Oz books. After the first few pages, when a glob of lemon filling landed on her screen, she pushed the plate away and tried to focus on the story.

Some time later, she heard the other bedroom door open and a moment after that, Gold limped into the kitchen. His eyebrows shot up when he found her at the table. "Bed too soft?" she greeted him.

He blinked. "How did you guess?"

Emma pushed her phone away. "You know I grew up in the foster system. I… got moved around a lot, so I learned not to let myself make too many friends, not to get too attached. It made it easier when they shipped me off again, and if it meant that I could never trust anyone to have my back," she shrugged, "I couldn't do that anyway. But one thing that never got easier was getting used to a new bed—even if it was better than the one I'd left behind." She winced. "If you can believe it, I once slept for more than two months on a sofa bed that creaked every time I twitched a muscle and had a loose spring that kept poking into my back and when I finally moved out of that place and got a room with a twin bed and a brand-new mattress, I think it took more than a week before I could sleep through the night on it." She flushed guiltily. There hadn't been any bed in the cage in Zelena's cellar. "Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to compare…"

Gold waved her off. "I did ask," he said. "You didn't spill out the end of the soup, did you?"

Emma shook her head. "No, it's in the fridge. I can warm it for you." She'd already checked the cabinets and found them stocked with dishes, pots, and pans.

"Please."

Emma nodded and pushed her chair away from the table. "I had a text from my mother a little while ago," she said, hoping that she wasn't about to twist a knife. "The funeral is going to be tomorrow." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I know you'd want to be there."

"What I'd want," Gold told her heavily, "would be for there to be no need for such a service."

"I know."

She poured the leftover soup into the smallest saucepan there was, then looked at it critically and topped it up with some water.

Gold cleared his throat. "I… believe," he ventured, "than an apology is in order."

Emma turned away from the sink to face him. "Yeah. I know. After everything that Zelena put you through," she said, "after everything that's happened today…" Her voice trailed off and she turned back to the sink. "If it had been me, I think I might be catatonic right now. But you… you still pulled yourself together enough to tell me what has to be done and I acted like a…" She stopped. "I tried to shoot the messenger instead of targeting the person really responsible." She carried the pot over to the stove and set it down on one of the burners. "My freaking out tonight was probably the last thing you needed to deal with. I'm sorry."

"I meant an apology on my part," Gold replied. "Today has been… hard for both of us. And I'm hardly a stranger to fear-based reactions."

"I don't know," Emma admitted. "Maybe I needed to remember that being afraid doesn't let me off the hook." She poured the soup into one of the ceramic bowls and brought it to the table with a spoon. "So… thanks."

"I'm sure you would have reached the same conclusion in the morning," Gold said, picking up the spoon. Emma noticed that he ate more slowly now than he had at supper.

She reached for her phone again. "Have you uncovered anything useful in that?" Gold asked, gesturing toward it.

Emma sighed. "Not yet. I don't really expect to find much in the first book. I mean, it's pretty straightforward: she captures Dorothy, Dorothy throws a bucket of water on her, and she melts—which, according to my parents, can already be filed under 'Don't believe everything you read'. I'm skimming it," she added, "but I guess I'm looking for stuff that's more… indirect. Like, if there's some kind of… oh, I don't know… Kryptonite that works on witches from Oz, that's also available here."

Gold smiled sardonically. "Well, dearie," he said, "I hate to tell you that it probably wouldn't do you a bit of good, seeing as Zelena was born in the Enchanted Forest."

"Fine," Emma shot back. "Is there anything that can be used to incapacitate a witch in the Enchanted Forest that we can create in this realm?"

Gold's eyes widened. "Squid ink," he replied, sounding stunned. "The species of squid that produces it doesn't exist in this realm, but I have a vial of it in the safe in my shop. If Belle can get hold of it… that might work." He frowned for a moment, thinking. "That mermaid, Ariel. Did she come over in the new curse with everyone else?"

Emma thought back. "I don't know," she admitted. "I haven't seen her around Storybrooke, but I just got there a couple of days ago, so that doesn't mean anything. Why?"

"Because mermaids can cross realms. And they know how to find—and extract the ink from—that variety of squid." His spoon scraped the bottom of the soup bowl and he looked down to find it empty.

"If you're up for it," Emma said, "I can split the pie." She gestured toward her plate, where more than half of the slice still remained.

Gold sighed. "Tempting, but it's probably too soon for that. I suppose I can wait until morning."

"Leonora said that the grocery store opens at seven. I'll go early and pick up some basics. Eggs, bread, milk, fruit…"

"That sounds promising," Gold agreed. He frowned. "Earlier today, in the parking lot, during the attack, I thought I smelled… baked apples."

"So did I, come to think of it," Emma said, remembering. "Maybe it was coming from one of the restaurants."

"I suppose that's possible," Gold said. "At any rate, thinking about it, I'm fairly sure I could eat those and keep them down. They might be an option for breakfast."

Emma smiled. "I'll pick up some apples tomorrow, then."

"Were you able to find anything useful in the books at all?" Gold asked.

Emma sighed. "I'm only up to the meeting with the Tin Woodman." She slid her phone toward him. "You want to take over?"

Gold shook his head. He started to say something, then caught himself. Emma waited for a moment, but when he remained silent, she reached for the phone again and called up the book. She started to read, but looked up when she heard him clear his throat. Again, he said nothing. She set down the phone. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He looked down. "You don't mind if I sit here for a bit?" he asked with a measure of embarrassment. "I believe I've had to spend far too much time alone, these past months."

"Oh." Emma shook her head. "No, of course not. Make yourself comf—"

There came a loud rap on the cabin door, startling them. "It's almost midnight," Emma exclaimed. "Who would be coming here now?" When Gold didn't answer, she got up and walked to the door. "Hello?" she called.

There was no answer.

"Well," Emma said under her breath, "I don't think her monkeys would knock, but just in case…" She darted into her bedroom and returned with her gun. "Okay," she said loudly, crossing back to the door and holding the gun behind her back with one hand, while turning the knob with the other. "Who are you, and what do you…" she pulled the door open. "…want?" There was nobody outside. Emma glanced back at Gold over her shoulder. "That's weird," she muttered. She was about to close the door, when she smelled something homey and familiar and saw the small basket covered with a linen napkin on the doorstep. Curious and wary, she tweaked the napkin back and blinked.

"What is it?" Gold asked, as she carried the basket into the cabin and set it down on the table.

"Two baked apples, still hot," Emma said, not quite believing it. "And… well," she pulled back the cloth and set the small cork-stopped bottle down on the table, "you probably know better than me. Is this…?"

Gold's eyes widened. "Squid ink," he confirmed. "But how?"

They exchanged a stunned glance. "What the hell is going on here?" Emma demanded.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Gold was still asleep when Emma rose at six—something she knew because, at some point during the night, he'd gone and left his bedroom door open. She took the shower she'd been too exhausted to take the night before, luxuriating in the knowledge that—unlike her parents' loft—the hot water wasn't going to run out and she could take as long as she needed. By the time she was done and dressed, it was a quarter to seven and she was ready to head for the grocery store. If they weren't quite open yet, she could wait in her car for a couple of minutes.

She debated waking Gold to find out whether he wanted to come with her. She hadn't forgotten that the monkey attack yesterday had come when he was alone. Ultimately, though, she resolved to let him sleep. It was early, yet. With any luck, she'd be back before he woke.

She double-checked that the windows were all closed and left a note on the table before she headed out, locking the door behind her.

* * *

She wasn't the only early riser. As she headed for her car, she could see Leonora several cabins over and decided that she could spare a moment to wish the girl a good morning.

Armed with a rake and a pair of heavy gloves, Leonora was valiantly attacking the leaves that carpeted the grass in front of the efficiencies. She had her back to Emma, and seemed to be carrying on a one-sided conversation.

"You know Uncle Pete's warned you about stuff like that before," she said, sounding exasperated. "Well, maybe you should listen to him. Not everyone's as dumb as Doc Terminal." She tilted her head for a moment, listening intently. "Terminus! Whatever. C'mon, the apples were bad enough, but the ink? You're just _trying_ to get caught, now."

Startled, Emma took a careful step closer.

"I _know_ you were only trying to help, Elliot," Leonora continued. "You're _always_ only trying to help. But folks around here are used to you. Those people are just passing through." A pause. "It doesn't matter that you're invisible if they see what you're doing." She tensed then. "Great," she muttered. "You could have warned me." She turned around a bit too calmly and flashed Emma a brilliant smile.

"Morning, Ms Swan! You sleep okay last night?"

"Uh, fine," Emma said quickly. "Who were you talking to?"

Leonora blinked. "Talking to?" she repeated, as though Emma had just asked something absurd. "Nobody. It's," she ducked her head for a second. Then she lifted it and looked Emma dead in the eye. "I was just working on something for drama workshop."

No, she wasn't. But all Emma said was, "Oh?"

"Yeah," Leonora continued, speaking quickly. "The instructor wants us to each create a character and come up with a monologue for them, and see…" For a moment, her smile faltered. Then it flashed again, "…see what the rest of the class can figure out about the character from reading between the lines," she finished. "My character's about five and she's talking to her imaginary friend. I was just trying out some stuff I might write down for her to say."

"I see," Emma said. _I see what your uncle meant about your imagination, because that's actually not a bad story to come up with on the spur of the moment. But it's not a true story either._

"Do you need anything?" Leonora asked, as she started to lean her rake against a nearby tree. "Uncle Pete won't be in the office this early, but I've got a key, if you want more towels or soap or…"

Emma shook her head. "No, I'm just going to pick up some groceries before Mr. Gold gets up. I saw you out here and though I'd come over to say 'hi'."

"Oh. Well, hi, then."

Emma debated with herself for a moment. "Uh… Leonora, you didn't by any chance drop off a basket in front of our door last night, around midnight?"

The girl shook her head. "A basket?" she repeated. "No."

 _True._

"Do you have any idea who might have?"

"Sorry," Leonora said. "No clue. I'm never here that late."

…And there went her lie detector again. Not that Emma really needed it to. Leonora might not have been there, but from the bit that Emma had overheard, the girl knew exactly what had been in that basket. Still, Emma didn't think that confronting her now would accomplish anything useful. "Okay. Well, if you hear anything, let me know. I'd like to thank them."

"Sure."

* * *

She was feeling more than a little guilty about leaving Gold behind. True, she wasn't going far. Passamaquoddy didn't seem to be a big place and the motel was less than five minutes from the grocery store. And Gold had been asleep. And yesterday…

Yesterday she had lived what felt like a decade in twenty-four hours. Finding the cage, reconnecting with Neal… and losing him. Gold. And the flight from Storybrooke. And realizing that, once again, being the savior meant that everything was hanging on her. Gold. Everything that he'd been through in the past year, plus everything that had happened yesterday… And it wasn't over. Today was Neal's funeral and if it was tearing at her that she couldn't be there, she couldn't imagine what it would be like for Gold. She hadn't had the heart to wake him up, when it would only be to another nightmare.

Last night, he hadn't wanted to be alone. Oh, he'd tried to be casual about it, tried to make it seem like he'd just rather keep her company, but it didn't really matter. She'd known better.

By the time Emma was twelve, she'd lived in eight foster homes that she could recall—not counting the temporary short-term placements, a night here, a week there. She'd gotten used to being the new girl in school, to joining the class in the middle of the year, when friendships were already established. At first, she'd tried to be outgoing, but it was hard to keep smiling and hoping that, when people acted nice, they were actually _being_ nice and not setting her up to take a fall.

She remembered Amy, who had promised to be her best friend in fourth grade. For two weeks, they'd shared everything. And then, she'd overheard Amy in the girls' washroom laughing to some of the other kids. Laughing about _her_.

 _"I mean, the way she dresses. It's like she found that shirt in Goodwill's_ dumpster _!"_

 _"Did you ask her to your party, Amy?"_

 _"Well, I was going to, but Mom already hired a clown!"_

The jokes and jabs were nothing new, but it was the first time that they'd come from someone she would have sworn was a friend.

It wasn't the last, though. After a while, she learned to keep her walls up, to keep people at a distance, to retreat if anyone seemed to be getting too close. And if, despite everything, someone did become her friend, she knew it couldn't last. Sooner or later, they'd find out that she really wasn't all that interesting. Or they'd get tired of having to hang out at parks or libraries or other places that didn't cost money. Or she'd be off to another foster home. If anyone got too close, she did her best to push them away. It made the leaving easier if there were fewer people to miss, and fewer still who would miss her. And since she was going to lose them anyway, this way, when it happened, it didn't come as a shock…

Emma's eyes opened wide. She didn't know everything there was to know about Gold, but she was willing to bet that the two of them had more in common than either had realized.

When she'd first arrived in Storybrooke, she remembered, her relationship with Gold had been cordial. She'd known that most of the town was afraid of him, but she hadn't really understood why at first. In fact, when they'd first met, she'd felt a sort of connection with him. Then, she'd found out about his deal with Ashley. There had been the crap he'd pulled during the election. And, of course, the way he'd used her to help him bring magic to the town while her son lay in a coma.

For the first time, it occurred to her that Gold might have had another reason for his actions beyond ruthless single-mindedness. She'd read Henry's book. She'd been to Neverland. She knew that the only people Gold had ever been close to had hurt him deeply, one way or another. Pan, Milah, Cora, even Neal—perhaps especially Neal, even if he hadn't meant to. He'd once told her that he knew how to recognize a desperate soul. Maybe it took one to know one.

She was onto something. She was sure of it. Gold's reputation in the town had ensured that everyone—except maybe Regina—gave him a wide berth. No real relationships, certainly no friendships, and he'd acted as though he preferred things that way. Then she'd arrived, without knowing a thing about him or his reputation. Maybe she'd recognized something of herself in him, maybe he'd seen it in her, or maybe—as usual—she'd been new enough to be interesting and she'd been looking for an ally against Regina. It didn't matter now. They _had_ been on good terms, perhaps not friends, but getting there—until he'd done something to demonstrate why the entire town viewed him with—at best—wary suspicion.

She had gotten too close. He'd pushed her away. And he hadn't been shocked when she'd started treating him with the same suspicion that the rest of the town did.

Emma sighed. They were a lot alike. She was only sorry it had taken this long to recognize it.

* * *

The door to Gold's room was closed when she got back. She wasn't sure whether he'd gotten up to shut it and then gone back to sleep, or whether he was awake, but she called out that she'd returned, in case he was awake and had heard her come in. If Gold was awake, then he'd woken up in unfamiliar surroundings, with no magic, a bum leg, and the knowledge that Zelena's monkeys were still out there somewhere.

The door opened and Gold emerged. He'd evidently taken another shower this morning; his hair was still damp. "You didn't have to shout," he said dryly. "These walls are thin enough."

Emma shrugged. "I thought you might appreciate knowing who'd walked in, even though the monkeys probably would have made more noise."

Gold blinked. Then, a bit more softly, he admitted, "Actually, I do."

"By the way," Emma continued, as she took the last item—a box of pop tarts—out of a grocery bag, "I ran into Nora on my way out." As she folded the bag, she briefly, she described the encounter. "Any ideas?"

Gold shook his head.

Emma sighed. "Me either, but there was something familiar about some of it. Elliot. Doc Terminus. I think I should know those names."

"Well," Gold murmured, "Perhaps it will come to you." He closed his eyes. "Did your mother tell you what time the funeral would be?"

"Ten."

Gold nodded. "I know we can't attend. I know. But despite my reply to you last night…"

Emma took a deep breath. "Back in New York," she said softly, "you wanted to know how Neal and I knew each other. Did he ever get the chance to tell you?"

Gold shook his head, but he leaned slightly closer and tilted his head toward her.

Encouraged, Emma sat down at the table. "We met in Portland. Oregon, not Maine," she added. "I was sixteen and on the run from my last foster home and…" She pushed her chair away from the table. "You know what? This could take a while. Let me get breakfast on while I'm talking."

* * *

Gold was using the last of his toast to mop up his eggs and Emma was on her second pop tart, by the time she finished. She'd tried to gloss over some points. She was trying to share good memories and she realized too late that stories about cons and petty thefts (and, in the case of the Beetle, not so petty) might not portray Neal in the best possible light. Gold wouldn't have it, though. While Emma doubted that he had her built-in lie detector, he was an expert at reading people and had no compunctions about calling her out when she would have omitted key details. In fact, he wanted every detail. Not so much about Neal's—their—illegal activities, though he didn't seem overly upset to hear of them. But when Emma mentioned that whenever they found themselves near a gourmet cheese shop, he'd set her to distracting the staff with questions about the differences between different kinds of cheddars while he deftly made off with a particular goat cheese—which they shared later, Gold perked up immediately.

"Do you recall the name of it?" he asked.

Emma frowned. "Yeah… it sounded French, but I think Neal said it came from Italy. Brune? Or…"

" _Brunet_ ," Gold corrected, with a note of wonder in his voice.

"Yeah," Emma blinked. "How did you know?"

Gold was smiling now. "It's a delicacy in this world, but its flavor is also nearly identical to that of a local cheese in the village where we lived. I… had a deal with one of my neighbors… Alaric, his name was," Gold continued. "He was a cheesemonger. He sold milk, too, but most of us had our own animals for that. I, however, did not. Come shearing time, Alaric would give me the fleece of his sheep and goats to spin for him. For that service, he kept us supplied with milk and cheese." He closed his eyes. "Bae loved that cheese," he said softly.

"When I knew that Regina was getting ready to cast the curse, I told her that I wanted her to arrange for me to have a good life in this new land," he sighed. "Luxurious. Filled with the finest things. An estate." He shook his head. "She made good on her word. When the curse brought me to Storybrooke, I found a pantry filled with gourmet delicacies and a refrigerator filled with—among other things—imported cheeses. It wasn't until my memories returned that I realized that the reason I was so partial to the Brunet was because it was almost identical to the variety which Alaric used to bring each week. I always thought that one day, when I found Bae, if he ever forgave me we'd…" he shook his head again. "Ah, well. I'm glad he did get to enjoy it in this land, even if it wasn't with me."

Emma nodded. "I'm sorry it didn't work out." She hesitated. "I didn't know that about the cheese. As you can imagine, Neal never talked much about his childhood. I thought I understood. I mean, I didn't really want to think about mine all that much either. We sort of kidded each other about our mysterious pasts, but it wasn't all joking, you know?"

Gold nodded back. "I do." He paused. "Would you care to hear a bit about it now?" he asked, the words blurted out at a rush.

Emma reached for another pop tart envelope. "If you don't mind," she said, ripping it open and settling back in, "I really would."

* * *

It was good to talk. After the first few minutes, Emma found herself taking notes. Henry was going to have questions about his father when she returned and she didn't want to forget any of this. True, he didn't remember anything about the book or the Enchanted Forest, which would mean that she'd need to revise these anecdotes and scrub them of any details that wouldn't make sense to him, but she'd figure something out. She could tell Henry that his father had loved Brunet cheese as a kid. Neal's first attempt to milk a sheep—Gold had acquired a couple when Neal had been a bit older—could have happened at a farm or petting zoo, instead of in a peasant village in another realm.

It occurred to her that she might have a harder time coming up with a reason why Neal abandoned her to take the fall for the stolen watches. "He didn't want to, but Pinocchio told him I was going to have to break a curse and my staying with him would jeopardize that mission," was probably not going to go over too well. She was about to ask Gold whether he had any suggestions, when she heard him gasp aloud.

"What's wrong?" she asked quickly.

He cringed in his chair, one hand upraised, as though he was warding off an imaginary blow, while a whimper escaped his lips.

"GOLD!"


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: The clip Emma is looking at is from the original Pete's Dragon movie and features Red Buttons as Hoagy and Jim Dale as Dr. Terminus. "Passamaquoddy" was written by Irwin Kostal.

 **Chapter Eight**

As Gold slid to the floor, Emma wondered whether he was having some kind of seizure. He was shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Then he mumbled something barely louder than a whisper.

"What was that?" Emma asked, moving closer to him. She dropped to her knees and hesitantly reached out and brought her left hand to his shoulder. "Gold?"

A tremor rippled through him, but there was a spark of recognition in his eyes. "The funeral," he repeated roughly. "Bae. They're shovelin' dirt over 'im. He's all alone down there. In the dark. And the earth keeps pourin' down…"

Without meaning to, Emma flinched. She'd noticed some time ago that, in times of extreme emotion, Gold's speech lost its usual polish, but she'd never known him to actually _drop_ his h's and g's. Seeing him in this state unnerved her and her first instinct was to retreat. Then he shuddered again and Emma was immediately ashamed of herself. "Hey," she said softly, tightening her grip on his shoulder with her left hand and taking his left hand in her right. "Hey, I've got you. I'm right here. It's…" No. It wasn't okay. Neal was dead and she was perilously close to breaking down again herself, but she couldn't allow herself that luxury when Gold was like this. "I've got you," she repeated, feeling some of his tension drain away. "I've got you."

Almost imperceptibly, Gold nodded. "Bae…" he whispered.

"I know." A year ago, she would have had no clue how to deal with any of this, but thanks to Regina's parting gift, Emma now had memories of sitting up with Henry, soothing away his nightmares, empathizing with his pains, both physical and emotional. It didn't matter that the memories weren't real. They were real enough. She slid over to sit alongside Gold, wrapped her left arm around both of his shoulders and pulled him in close. "I know."

* * *

It was hard to say how long they sat there before Gold gently eased himself out of her embrace. It was definitely long enough for her legs to start cramping up and for the linoleum floor to feel uncomfortable to sit on. Gold used his cane to rise and then helped Emma up. Emma noticed that he kept his hand on her sleeve for a moment longer than he had to. "I…" he hesitated.

Emma shook her head. "It's barely been a day," she said. "You've been going through a hell of a lot. Of course, it's hitting you hard."

Gold closed his eyes. "I felt like it were me in the coffin," he whispered. "Bae and I shared a body for a long time. Even though you pulled us apart, I think there were a thread or two that hadn't snapped yet." He exhaled softly and brought one hand up to cover his eyes. "It's over now. I've no more sense of him."

"I'm sorry," Emma said, not sure whether she was empathizing or apologizing.

Gold nodded faintly. "You couldn't have known. I wouldn't have thought that the connection would be active outside Storybrooke, myself." He took a deep breath. "Have you been in contact with your parents?"

"Not since last night," Emma said, shaking her head again. "I guess, if the funeral's over, they'll all be at Granny's for the wake. I'll talk to them in a bit, once things quiet down." A thought occurred to her and she held her phone out to him. "Do you want to get in touch with Belle?"

Gold started to reach for it, then stopped. "It might be too risky," he said. "Zelena knows… she must know how Belle feels about me. She may not be aware of the extent of my feelings for Belle. Should she learn of them, I've no doubt that she'll threaten Belle to get me to return to Storybrooke. I'd rather not chance it."

"All right," Emma said. "I'll call Henry, then. He really doesn't know anybody there anymore and he's got to be feeling a bit out of place. Maybe I'll share some of what we were talking about before with him."

Gold nodded. Then he frowned. "Zelena's capable of using him to get to _you_ , you know," he said. "I'd recommend alerting Regina. I know she's placed a protection spell around his heart. There are other things that she can do. Several of them can be from a distance, so that he won't realize what she's about. If she has any questions, have her direct them to you to pass on to me."

Eyes wide, Emma nodded. "I'll call her after I see how Henry's doing."

* * *

Henry was subdued on the phone. He didn't have much to say about the funeral. As far as he knew, he had never met his father and so he wasn't grieving, so much as he was regretting that he never would. "I could handle the funeral," he continued, "but I had to duck out of the wake. Everyone was coming up to me and saying how sorry they were and everything," Henry continued, "and I kept thanking them, but it felt wrong. Like I'm supposed to want to cry or vent or something, but I never met my dad. I have no idea who he was. And," he added, "I guess, now, I never will."

"Actually," Emma said, "your grandfather and I spent most of the morning sharing memories of him. I've been writing them down, so when I get back…"

"Really?" Henry asked, perking up. "That would be awesome! So… I'll get to meet him. My grandfather. What do I call him? Grandfather? Grandpa? Grandpa Cassidy?"

Emma blinked. "Uh… probably Grandpa. But it's Gold, not Cassidy."

"Wait." Emma could picture him frowning on the other end of the conversation. "My dad's name was Neal Cassidy."

 _Whoops._ "He changed it," Emma said, a fraction too quickly. "When I met him, he'd had a falling out with his family and wanted to break away. They reconciled years later." She heard a faint click, glanced at the phone and noticed that Regina had just texted her. "It's kind of a long story," she added. "Think it can keep till I get back to Storybrooke?"

"Sure, I guess," Henry replied. "When will that be?"

Good question. "Another couple of days, I think," Emma said, hoping that she was right. "Are you holding up okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Henry said. "I mean, after I left Granny's, I went for a walk in the woods near where Leroy and I went fishing yesterday. Killian found me there. Hey, did you know he and my dad used to be friends?"

"Yeah, I did," Emma said, glad to hear that someone was keeping an eye on him. So far, the monkeys seemed to be sticking to the town line and she didn't want Henry anywhere near there. "He's probably got some stories neither Gold nor I know."

"Well, he said he'd show me around his boat this afternoon. The Nolans already said it would be okay, so long as we didn't leave the marina."

"Probably a good idea," Emma agreed. "I think I might have heard something about a storm warning on the radio this morning."

"For Storybrooke?" Henry asked, and Emma could picture the frown on his face. "Wait. You're not too far away, are you?"

Smart kid. Well, it wasn't as though Zelena didn't already know where they were. "No, we're about a half hour up the coast in Passamaquoddy."

Henry laughed. "Good one, Mom. Seriously, where are you?"

Emma blinked. "Seriously, we're in Passamaquoddy."

"No way," Henry breathed, sounding excited. "You mean it's real? You see any dragons?" he added with a laugh.

" _What?_ "

"You know something?" Henry said, "Give me a few minutes to see if I can find a clip. I'll email it to you, okay?"

"Uh… sure."

"Great. Oh, uh, Mary Margaret just told me to come have lunch. Guess I'd better go. I'll send it after."

"Sure thing, kid. Later."

She ended the call, brought up Regina's text, and gave an angry start. It looked as though, shortly after Henry had left the diner, Zelena had crashed the wake and announced her kinship to the (formerly) Evil Queen and challenged her to some sort of witches' duel. Regina had added that wasn't yet convinced that Zelena had been telling the truth about their relationship. _Wonderful._ Emma knew she should have called Regina last night, after Gold had told her. Maybe she didn't have to let on that she'd already known. Emma considered her options. Then she called her back. "Hey."

Maybe she only imagined hearing Regina sniff before the mayor responded with a far-too-bright 'Hey'. Emma could hear the quotation marks around it.

"Uh… Gold and I were talking last night," Emma said, deciding not to play dumb. Once they got around to comparing notes, she was sure to let it slip out anyway. "Zelena was telling you the truth. She's your half-sister."

"Oh?" Regina said, a touch of temper showing behind her carefully cultured tones. "And you've only now thought that this revelation might be of interest?"

Emma sucked in a breath and exhaled noisily. "I don't blame you for being angry," she admitted. "Gold and I were trying to deal with losing Neal… while getting attacked by flying monkeys twice—once when we were leaving and once when we arrived here. And…" she took another breath, "…and right after he told me who Zelena was, he told me that I'm the only one who could stop her, and at that point, I kind of wasn't thinking about making any phone calls."

There was a long pause. "You?" Regina repeated. "Then may I presume you'll be returning to Storybrooke at some point in the not-so-distant future?"

"I'm working on that," Emma said. Tersely, she filled Regina in on what Gold had told her over the last twenty-four hours. "I need to learn how to use my magic," she continued. "Really learn, instead of just firing it off half-cocked. The problem is, I need to be in Storybrooke to access it and the minute Gold steps foot over the town line, he's back under Zelena's control."

"And if you leave him behind, there's a good chance her flying monkeys will haul him back anyway—unless that mysterious… well, whatever it was… keeps looking out for him."

"Basically." Emma thought for a moment. "I just realized something. If the magical boundary is so sharply defined…." she hesitated, trying to figure out how to phrase her question. "Okay. Is there any place, besides the town line—which obviously won't work, so long as the monkeys are watching it—where Gold could be just outside the boundary and able to coach me while I'm just inside it? Maybe the harbor?"

Regina was silent for a moment. "Not the harbor," she said, considering. "Not for what you're suggesting. Water's unstable, which tends to muck up even simple spells, when you don't know what you're doing. If you try your idea out there, the waves will carry you both back and forth across the boundary. You could be onto something, as far as there being a way for Gold to train you, though. Let me give it some thought." She sighed. " _After_ I face my long-lost sister in mortal combat this evening. But first," she added grimly, "I'll see what I can do about protecting Henry."

"Yeah. Uh… is it okay to wish you luck for tonight, or is there some superstition where I'm supposed to tell you to break a leg instead?"

"This isn't the theatre, Ms Swan," Regina said with some asperity. Then, in a slightly more subdued tone she added, "And I'll take all the well wishes I can get."

"Good luck, then."

"Thank you, Emma."

* * *

"That went a little better than I expected," Emma admitted, after catching Gold up with the goings-on back in Storybrooke. "Regina's really changed."

Gold snorted. "The two of you are currently uniting against a common enemy. Don't assume that when all this is over, you'll swapping recipes and meeting for coffee."

"Hey. It's been almost two years since the last time she tried putting me under a sleeping curse. I'm calling it an improvement."

She was almost positive that Gold's eyeroll was just from force of habit.

"Meanwhile," Gold said, his expression turning serious, "although I can't instruct you in the use of your magic at the moment, there are certain meditative techniques that could help you get into the right mindset. Magic is unlocked through focused emotion. If you can harness your feelings, you can harness your power."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "You're not about to try a Vulcan mindmeld, are you?"

Gold sighed. "If you can't be serious about this, there's no point in pursuing it."

"I'm sorry." She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms. "Okay. I'm ready. What do I need to do?"

Gold leaned back in his chair. "Find a comfortable position. I'm aware that some forms of meditation call for you to lie down on a mat. That's not going to be necessary today. For what we're about to do, all that matters is that you be relaxed and alert."

Emma thought for a moment. Then she sat down, folded her hands, and let them rest on the table.

"Close your eyes. I want you to think of a happy memory. Recreate it in your mind in every detail. You have four other senses besides sight. Don't ignore them."

"Do I tell you what it is?" Emma asked.

"Not necessary, dearie. Just make it as clear as possible."

 _She was sitting with Neal on a park bench, watching the ducks paddle across the pond. They had a baguette roll and a round of Brunet cheese spread out between them on a cloth napkin they'd acquired who even knew where anymore. Neal was ripping off hunks of baguette and spreading the cheese on them, while the birds—it took a moment's concentration to remember. Gulls, screaming their hunger to the skies, cardinals calling almost like sirens, robins cheerfully whistling and trilling… The birds called to one another. Emma tossed a piece of baguette toward the pond, having caught the eye of a hopeful mallard, but a gull swooped down and caught the tidbit in midair. From out of nowhere, an entire colony of them descended, perched on the edge of the pond, waiting expectantly._

 _"Now you've gone and done it," Neal exclaimed, laughing. "We are about to get mugged by a bunch of—"_

 _A rambunctious Jack Russell terrier pup came racing by, his leash trailing behind him. In the distance, Emma could see a kid running after him, but the dog was too far ahead and having far too much fun. He splashed into the pond, scattering gulls and ducks alike, while Emma and Neal sat back and laughed._

 _The wind carried the smells of broiling hotdogs and buttered popcorn to them from nearby vendor carts. Emma bit into a hunk of baguette smeared with cheese, closed her eyes, and savored the combination of creamy, tangy goat cheese and soft, fresh bread. Neal brushed her hair away from her face and she smiled and leaned against him, taking comfort in his solidness. It was a perfect day…_

"Open your eyes, Emma." Gold's voice was soft, but it cut through her memory like Neal's pocketknife through the Brunet. She obeyed, feeling momentarily disoriented. "I think that's a fine start," he said.

"Thanks," Emma replied. "But how could you know?" She felt drained, but accomplished, as though she'd overdone a workout and moved past euphoria to exhaustion. There was a dull pain in her head, too.

Gold sniffed. "You're not my first pupil, dearie. I know the signs to look for." He sighed. "Of course, without magic, it's difficult to know whether you can use the emotion to fuel your ability, but one step at a time." He smiled then. "Take a breather, Emma. We'll have another lesson after supper."

"Can we afford to take a breather?" Emma asked.

Gold sighed. "We can't afford not to. This is an exercise for your mind. If you push too hard, you will strain it as surely as you might strain a muscle in a physical exercise. I will push you as far as I believe you can safely go, but we cannot risk pushing beyond that." A thin smile spread his lips. "If time weren't of the essence, it would be another matter."

"Got it." Something fluttered against her hip and it took her a moment to realize that it was her phone. She pulled it out of her pocket and checked the message. "Henry," she said. "He was going to email me something about this place. Hang on." She clicked the link he'd attached.

A moment later, a video popped up. She saw two men dressed in clothing that looked about a century out of date. The shorter one wore a brown suit and a yellow derby. The other wore a black top hat with a red band and a full gray cape. He leaned toward the short man and said, as camera cut to a group of none-too-friendly-looking townspeople, "Quick. What's the name of this town again?"

"Passamaquoddy," his companion replied, sounding nervous. The taller man started toward the crowd, then did a double-take.

"Passama-what?" he asked.

"Passamaquoddy!"

"Got it." He faced the crowd and broke into a broad grin. "How wonderful to see your smiling faces!" he proclaimed to the sea of frowns, as the music started. "…Once again! All of you! I-I have never known such warmth… such welcome… such loving hospitality."

One of the townspeople made an angry gesture. "Get out, you quack!" he heckled.

As other townspeople joined in, Emma's jaw dropped. The camera had cut to a small stage, above which a sign proclaimed, 'Terminus Elixirs'. She looked at the video description. "No way," she breathed.

Gold walked around to her side of the table. "What is it?" he asked over the music.

For answer, Emma pointed to the title of the video: _Pete's Dragon—Passamaquoddy_. "I remember watching this with Henry a few months ago, when he was home sick with a stomach virus," Emma said absently. She turned to Gold with a bewildered glance. "How is this even possible?"

Gold was already moving toward the door. "I think that's a question best posed to Mr. Eddystone," he said. Then, as though he wasn't sure whether Emma had connected all the dots, he added, "Mr. _Pete_ Eddystone."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: "Every Little Piece" written by Al Kasha and Joel Hirschhorn and performed by Jim Dale and Red Buttons on the _Pete's Dragon_ soundtrack (Disney, 1977, 2002)

 **Chapter Nine**

Pete Eddystone was sitting behind the front desk in the motel office, reading a copy of the _Bangor Daily News_ , when Emma and Gold burst in. He set the newspaper aside immediately. "Afternoon, folks," he greeted them laconically. "Did you sleep all right?"

Emma opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. It occurred to her that asking 'Are you really that kid from _Pete's Dragon_?' might not be wise, should her assumption prove wrong. Gold came to her rescue.

"I believe," he said tersely, "that it is time to discuss what transpired yesterday at the filling station."

Pete didn't seem at all surprised. "You're right, of course," he said. "The problem is, my explanation is likely to prove difficult to accept without establishing some bona fides. I won't be able to do that for another few hours. I need to have someone join us and… he's around, but he's a bit hard to reach sometimes."

"Mr. Eddystone," Emma ventured, "I spoke to my son earlier today."

Pete's eyebrows shot up and he smiled. "I didn't realize you had one."

"Yes, well," Emma wasn't about to let herself get sidetracked, "when I told him where we were, he sent me a video clip from… from a film that featured a song about this town."

Pete nodded. "Jim Dale did a great job with it. Truth be told, he made a much better Terminus than the genuine article." His expression turned serious. "As generally happens with the movies, sometimes the facts get in the way of the story and some changes end up getting made. And sometimes the facts are what make the movie resonate and Hollywood gets enough of it right." He sighed. "Yes. I'm Pete."

Gold seemed to take the revelation in stride. Emma, though, grew more agitated. "Wait. That movie was set more than a hundred years ago. And you look barely half that old—"

"Thank you."

"And a dragon? Seriously?" She felt her face flush as she realized that there might be a particular irony in the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming questioning the existence of dragons while in the company of Rumpelstiltskin.

Pete only smiled. "I know. Like I said, it's hard to accept without corroboration. I'll tell you what. The tide's on its way out now. It'll be at its lowest point around half-past five. Suppose we meet on the beach at six?" He gestured toward the door. "The gravel path you came down from your cabin… if you follow it in the other direction, it'll take you there. Should be more or less deserted; that part of the beach is private and property of this motel. The locals won't bother us and there aren't any tourists left here now, so unless someone comes sailing up the coast and decides to make landfall there, we'll be alone. I'll get a fire going, we'll have a cookout, and we'll talk. My bona fides will… join us."

Emma blinked. "Elliot?"

"That's right. And Leonora," he added. "I… might have promised her at some point that when the time came for me to tell the story, she could be around to hear it. Now, did you watch the whole movie, or just that clip?"

Emma blinked again. "I saw it a while ago. I think I remember the basics."

Pete glanced at Gold, who shook his head. "I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure."

Pete chuckled. "I'm not entirely sure it's a pleasure," he admitted. "The movie wasn't commercially successful and, well, I somehow don't think I was quite as adorable as I was portrayed. I got into plenty of scrapes on my own that I can't blame any dragons for. Still, the film got more right than it got wrong." He shrugged. "I was just asking because you probably won't find many copies of it here. Some of the things the movie got right are, um, things people don't want to remember about their grandparents and so on. I do happen to own a recording but," he shrugged again, "I got it when it was first released on VHS. My player gave up the ghost a number of years back, so until I bite the bullet and get the cassette converted, or buy it on DVD and get a player for _that_ , it doesn't look like I'll be able to watch it. Sorry about that." He sighed. "Technology didn't used to change this fast back in my day."

"Uh… right," Emma said.

"So, six? I'll bring chairs," he added. "I think we're probably a bit past the time when any of us could sit comfortably in the sand."

Emma glanced at Gold. Gold nodded. "Very well," he said. "We'll await your explanation."

* * *

Although the grounds were deserted, Emma waited until they were back at the cabin before she turned to Gold. "Did you know?" she demanded. "Yesterday, after the monkey attack, you said—"

Gold held up a hand to cut her off in mid-sentence. "I suspected," he admitted. "More accurately, I recognized the signs, but thought that there had to be another explanation."

"For…?" Emma prompted when Gold didn't continue.

Gold moved to the sofa, sat down, and set the tip of his cane on the floor in front of him. He pressed both hands down on the rounded knob handle and leaned forward. After a moment, Emma sat down on the opposite end. "Guardian dragons," Gold said finally. "Protectors and defenders, often—though not exclusively—of children. Their abilities include flight, fire breath, and invisibility. They are also strictly aligned with the forces of Good and generally can tell who is similarly aligned," his expression turned bleak, "and who opposed."

"And they can exist in a world without magic?"

"They can—and do—exist in virtually every world," Gold said. "When I was looking for a way to cross to a non-magical realm, it occurred to me that I might be able to make use of one, but I had to rule it out."

"Why?"

Gold sighed. "For the same reason I was certain my suspicious were mistaken yesterday. As I've just told you, guardian dragons are aligned with Good. They can sometimes err when it comes to ordinary human beings, since most walk a delicate balance between light and dark. In my case, well," he sighed, "the only thing I can think is that out here, with no magic, perhaps my own nature is a bit more obscured. If this Elliot is a guardian dragon, as soon as he discovers who I am, well, let's just say that the expression 'out of the frying pan, into the fire' has seldom been used more appropriately."

"Maybe," Emma said, "or maybe he already decided you were on the same side when he went after the monkeys."

"It would be interesting," Gold said with a faint smile, "to determine whether your optimism was transmitted to you as part of your heritage or whether you came by it after living for close to two years with your charming parents." He looked Emma squarely in the eyes then, his expression serious. "I shouldn't need to mention," he said, "that Mr. Eddystone and his companions will undoubtedly have as many questions for us as we do for them. It would be wise to avoid volunteering too many details about who I am apart from a landlord and shopkeeper."

Emma nodded, but she was frowning. "That's going to be tricky," she pointed out. "I mean, the monkeys were targeting you. They abducted you from inside a car. I'm pretty sure Eddystone's going to want to know why."

"Doubtless," Gold agreed. "However, it doesn't necessarily follow that you or I would know the reason." He shook his head. "I know we've had our differences, dearie, but I don't think you'd want to risk my being burned to a crisp, which is what's likely to happen should this dragon discover who I am."

"No," Emma admitted. "I wouldn't. I just hope I don't get tripped up; I'm a pretty lousy liar, most of the time."

"Fortunately," Gold said without a trace of levity, "I have some skill in that area. Just don't interfere."

* * *

Gold moved up her second meditation lesson to late afternoon. By five, the two were walking along the gravel path, crunching over leaves that Leonora hadn't raked. There was a smell of seawater wafting toward them. The sun was low in the sky; Emma guessed that sunset was only about a half-hour or so away.

As the beach came in sight, they saw four deck chairs arranged in a half circle around a pile of wood arranged beneath a cooking grate. Over to one side, was an older pickup truck. Leonora was seated on the tailgate, kicking her legs idly back and forth. Pete spotted them and waved.

"I'm just about set up," he called. "Leonora, grab the coolers."

The girl nodded and turned to reach behind her.

"Need a hand?" Emma called as they stepped onto the rocky, shell-strewn beach.

"No, thanks," Leonora yelled back. "They're not heavy."

"And I doubt she'd tell you if they were," Pete admitted as they reached the semi-circle of chairs. "She's always been self-sufficient."

"And not deaf," Leonora interjected, setting two Styrofoam coolers down on the sand.

"Sit down, everyone," Pete said. "We'll have a fire going in a few minutes." He glanced up and slightly to Gold's left. "Won't we?" he added in a slightly louder voice. He didn't seem to get the answer he'd been expected, for a frown passed fleetingly over his face. "Well," he sighed, "if I have to do it, it'll take a bit longer. No harm done, I suppose." He glanced at the others. "Please," he said, "sit down, make yourselves comfortable. Ah…"

There was a crunching sound and Emma blinked. On the other side of the fire pit, a shallow circular depression had suddenly appeared. Within it, were a number of shattered clamshells that she was sure had been whole a moment ago.

"C'mon, Elliot," Pete said. "You might as well let 'em see you now as later."

The area on the other side of the pit seemed to take on a blue shimmer then, which grew steadily brighter. Then the shimmer vanished, replaced by a solid-looking dragon.

Emma had fought a dragon once, nearly two years ago. She'd barely escaped with her life. That dragon had been a monster, all teeth and flame and armored scales. The specimen seated before her now was about as opposite as one could get—green, with a shock of pink hair and wings—tiny wings that rose cape-like from between his shoulders. Where Maleficent had been ferocious, the word that sprang to Emma's mind to describe Elliot was _goofy_.

"Whoa!" Leonora exclaimed, sliding off of her chair and craning her neck to look up at the sitting dragon. "Why didn't you let me see you till now?"

"I asked him not to," Pete answered before Elliot could. He looked around at all of them and sighed. "You have to understand that it's sort of an open secret," he said. "Time was when everyone here knew about him. Plenty of eyewitnesses saw him save the town that night. But I'm afraid they've all passed on, now. It's still talked about, but… out of sight, out of mind, as they say. Also, it's one thing to know about it in the abstract. It's something else to see a dragon walking down Main Street. I guess you could say it's a bit of town history that's sort of known, but seems to drift more into legend with each passing year."

He smiled fondly at his niece. "I didn't want you to go through what I did during my first weeks here. When I arrived in town, I was always talking about my dragon. And, as you can imagine, folks thought I was—at best—coming up with a creative way of deflecting blame for what they thought were my own actions. At worst, they thought I was addled," he added. "Elliot hasn't been seen in town in about thirty years, now. I was worried that if you started talking about him with your friends, sooner or later, someone was going to call you a liar and demand you prove it. And then, either Elliot decides to stay invisible and you look like you were spinning a yarn, or he materializes and someone panics and…" He shook his head. "Maybe I ought to give the younger generation more credit, but I'd rather not risk."

He leaned back in his chair. "Anyway. In case you haven't figured it out, it was Elliot came to your aid yesterday."

"And the baked apples?" Emma asked. "And the squid ink?"

Elliot gave an elaborate shrug. Then he grunted, reached behind the coolers and picked up a burlap sack that Emma hadn't noticed. He lifted two apples daintily out of the sack and tossed them high. A jet of flame spouted from his mouth and a wonderful aroma filled the air. The dragon cupped his front paws together and caught the now-baked apples, blew on them, bowed, and held one out to Emma, the other to Gold.

"Uh… thanks," Emma said, taking one as Leonora laughed and applauded. Gold smiled nervously and took the other.

"So," Pete said, as Elliot ignited the wood in the fire pit, "I guess it's usually best to start at the beginning, though if you've seen the movie you've probably got most of it right. To paraphrase Mark Twain at the start of _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn_ , it mostly tells the truth with some stretchers." He took a deep breath. "The timeline is right, by the way. I came to Passamaquoddy when I was ten. And the year was 1906."

"How?" Emma asked.

Pete tilted his head in her direction. "Walked over the town line," he deadpanned. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I set you up for that. Okay. I guess you know how the movie ends, right?"

"Yes," said Emma, as Gold nodded. She'd refreshed her memory earlier with a synopsis she'd found online and shared the details with Gold. "Nora and Paul adopt you and Elliot leaves."

"Accurate to a point," Pete nodded. "He goes where he's needed and I didn't need him anymore. The rule, as he told me then, was that once he left, I'd never see him again. That wasn't something easy for me to accept. Elliot was my best friend and, until I came to Passamaquoddy, he was my only friend. So I didn't like it, but I tried to understand. I did my best to put on a brave face. And it helped that I wasn't alone anymore. Nora and Paul were married within a month of his departure. Two years later, they had a boy, Thomas. My younger brother. Leonora's great-grandfather." He smiled at the girl seated next to him. "So, I suppose that makes her my great-grand-niece, but we simplify a bit. Anyway…"

While Pete had been talking, he'd been keeping an eye on the fire. Now, he set a large pan on top of the grate and free-poured a bit of oil. "Sorry," he said. "Just waiting for it to get hot enough." He opened a bottle of water and poured a small amount into the cap. Then he held the cap over the pan and poured its contents in. The water sizzled on contact and Pete smiled, opened up one of the coolers, and lifted out four good-sized fish filets. He glanced at Elliot. "You want some, just to be sociable?" he asked.

Elliot replied with a number of grunts and low-pitched murmurs. Pete nodded. He turned back to the others. "Elliot likes his fish raw," he said. "And he eats a bit more than I can afford to buy for him. He'll go out in the bay later and take his fill. Meanwhile, if anyone wants their dinner roasted instead of fried, he'll be happy to oblige."

"Fried will be fine," Gold said calmly, though Emma noted that his hands were clenched tightly about the armrests of his deck chair. She nodded, as did Leonora. Elliot shrugged good-naturedly.

Pete set the filets in the pan. "Time passed," he continued over the sizzling fish. "I settled into town life. And most people sort of forgot about Elliot. Oh, there was still talk about the big storm of '06, and how 'my' dragon lit the lamp and saved the boat, but as the years passed, details faded, and the story sort of passed into legend. The world was changing. The Great War came, and then the influenza epidemic. The Depression and another war. And in the middle of it all, Thomas and I married and raised our families. And then one day, in 1958, I was eating supper when I heard a loud crash in my backyard. I thought it might have been a tree branch and I went out to inspect the damage. Instead…" he shook his head. "I found Elliot."

"He popped in for a visit?" Emma asked.

Pete shook his head again. Elliot grunted and nodded. Pete sighed. "I suppose that's one way to look at it," he admitted. "See, when Elliot told me I'd never see him again, I didn't realize that the same wouldn't hold true for him. He'd been coming by from time to time, keeping an eye on me, always invisible, always at a distance—because even when he was invisible, I could usually tell when he was about. Unfortunately," Pete grew serious, "this time, Elliot had chosen to show up during hunting season. And because he was invisible, the hunter had no way of realizing that he did not have a clear shot at… well, at whatever he was firing at. Put a hole in Elliot's left flank. And at that point, Elliot decided to toss out the rule book and come to me for help. I wasn't any kind of doctor or vet, but I knew some basics about cleaning a wound. I did what I could and then I realized that if I wanted him to have his best chance to pull through, I needed to call in someone more knowledgeable. So, I phoned up our local vet Marcus Coleman—Hiram's grandfather, incidentally—to come over. Marcus was an old school friend of mine. He was there the day Elliot wrecked the schoolhouse, which meant that I didn't have to waste time convincing him that I wasn't yanking his chain. Elliot survived, but I didn't realize then that things had changed for me in a pretty significant way."

Emma frowned, waiting for him to continue. Gold, however, sat up a bit straighter. "When you were cleaning that wound," he said, "would you have happened to come in contact with any of his blood?"

Pete grinned. "And that's one more thing that the movie got right."

"I don't—" Emma started to say.

"The song!" Leonora interrupted. "Doc Terminus's song!"

"Passamaquoddy?" Emma blinked. "Or shloddy?" she asked, remembering that the online article had given the song a slightly different title than the person who'd uploaded the clip Henry had sent her.

Leonora waved a hand impatiently. "No! The other one! Listen!" Softly and slightly off-key, she began to sing.

 _"Dragon liver can cure a cold  
Dragon powder grows hair." _Then, more slowly and deliberately, she sang the next line:

 _"With dragon blood you'll never grow old…"_

Elliot hugged himself, an expression of exaggerated terror springing to his face.

Pete rolled his eyes. "C'mon, you big ham," he said affectionately. "If she hadn't sung it, you would've."

Elliot grunted, smiled, and settled back down.

Pete nodded. "I haven't aged a day since the fourth of August, 1958."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Jessica Jones premiered on Netflix after S3 of OUAT, but it was just too good an example to pass up.

 **Chapter Ten**

The fish was ready and Pete served it out on tin plates, cautioning everyone to avoid burning themselves. For a few minutes, all conversation ceased and the only sounds to be heard were those of cutlery scraping on tin plates, the waves lapping against the shore, and Elliot's rumblings. The sun was setting, turning the October sky into a brilliant lake of flame. Finally, Pete set his plate down on the sand beside his chair and smiled. "I guess that's all there is to tell," he said. "Unless you've got any questions."

"I've got one," Emma said. "Uh… don't take this the wrong way, but apart from the whole not aging thing, you seem pretty normal."

"Apart from the whole not aging thing," Pete nodded, "I am. So…?"

"So, why'd Hiram Coleman send Leonora to get you when we were attacked? From what came next, it doesn't seem like you sent Elliot on ahead." She turned to the dragon. "He didn't, did he? You helped us on your own?"

Elliot pumped his head up and down enthusiastically.

Emma grinned. "Thanks, by the way." She glanced at Pete. "Well?"

Pete sighed. "I guess, depending on what you're asking, there are two ways to answer. If you want to know why he sent Nora off, I'd have to say that one, he didn't want her anywhere near those creatures and two, seeing as I'm the only person here who's got any experience with," he looked fondly at Elliot, "well, let's just say, beings—I really hate applying the term 'creature' to someone like Elliot—that conventional wisdom claims can't be real," he thought I'd probably know what to do. Now," he continued, "if you're asking why he would think that my being best friends with a dragon in _any_ way qualifies me to know how to handle winged monkeys," he shook his head, still smiling. "I have no idea whatsoever." He chuckled and leaned back in the deck chair. "So. How much can you tell me about what's brought you here?"

Gold and Emma exchanged surprised glances. "That's rather an odd way of asking," Gold said coolly.

"Talk to anyone in this town and they'll tell you I'm rather an odd sort of person," Pete shrugged. "It gives me some leeway with societal norms." He sighed. "Look, I don't want to pry, but if those monkeys are a threat to you, we'd like to help," he said, gesturing to Elliot and Leonora. "If they're a threat to the rest of the town, then we have to."

Gold sighed heavily. "They shouldn't be," he said.

"But you're not sure," Pete replied. "I really think we have to hear the rest."

"I wish I had something I could tell you," Gold said, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, all I can say is that it appears that they—or someone who controls them—has a particular interest in me. There's no reason I can give you as to why."

Pete frowned. "I can't help but notice that you haven't said you don't know the reason. Look, it if helps put your mind at ease, there's no scenario I can picture that has us turning you over to them."

Elliot shook his head emphatically. This time, his grunt sounded exactly like a "Nuh-uh!"

Gold chuckled. "Well, I'm flattered by your confidence, but there's still nothing I can safely tell you."

Elliot growled softly and Gold shrank a bit in his chair. The dragon rose to his full height and clapped both front paws to his pink hair. He tugged at it while rolling his eyes and letting loose with a tirade of grunts, clicks, snorts, and growls.

"Um…" Leonora said, "I don't know if I got all that, but it sort of sounded like," her voice rose an octave and her hands flew to her long curly ponytail. She clenched each fist around half of it and pulled them apart, pretending that she was trying to tear her hair out, "For crying out loud, we just want to know what we're up against! What's it going to take for you to trust us?"

Emma clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. Seeing dragon and girl presenting near mirror-images of over-the-top exasperation was nearly too much. Elliot snaked his tail around Leonora's shoulders in a prehensile hug.

Gold, however, was unimpressed. "I've told you all I safely can," he said.

"You haven't told us anything," Leonora protested.

"Nora," Pete held up a warning hand. " _And_ Elliot," he added, shaking his head. He looked at Gold. "I'm sorry about that. We really don't mean to pry. We're just… concerned." A self-conscious smile played around his lips. "And curious, I suppose."

"I understand," Gold said with some irritation. "But believe me when I say that there are certain things you're better off not knowing."

Emma watched uneasily, checking to make sure that Gold was managing all right. If she spoke up and told them that he'd just lost his son yesterday, they'd probably back down. Then Gold's eyes met hers and he shook his head. A warning. She gave a slight nod to show that she understood and his tension lessened. "We don't want to make any trouble for you," she said. "We can check out tonight if you're concerned."

Pete sighed. "I am concerned," he admitted, "but for you, not about you." He glanced at Gold. "Elliot saved you yesterday. That tells me everything I need to about whether you're worth helping. I only wish I knew what I could say that would have you believe we mean it."

Gold sniffed. "Your dragon may be a bit too trusting," he muttered.

"Okay," Pete said, "that's one major thing that the movie got wrong. He's not _my_ dragon any more than I'm his human. We're friends. We don't own each other."

Elliot's eyes opened very wide. "Wait!" he barked, and this time nobody had any trouble understanding his garbled pronunciation. He pointed at Gold. "You…" more grunts and snorts followed, but Emma thought she could make out—if not words, then—the general sense of what he was saying this time. _You think I don't know?_ The dragon sat back down. In the flickering firelight, his green skin seemed to take on a golden cast. He tugged at his hair again as though trying to make it longer. When that didn't work, he frowned, scratched at his chin in thought, and then snapped his fingers and smiled. Quickly, he hunched his shoulders and brought his wings together over his head so that they resembled a pointed hood. His eyes bulged slightly and took on a pale, yellowish, almost fishy tint. A high-pitched giggle burst from his lips. Gold flinched.

A moment later, he lowered his shoulders, moved a bit further back from the fire, and let his eyes revert back to normal. He tilted his head in Gold's direction, as if asking, "Am I right?"

Gold's eyes darted wildly in all directions as though looking for a way to flee. Then he slumped in his chair. "I don't understand," he said in a low tone. "If you know who I am—"

Elliot grunted something and Nora translated. "He says," and she frowned a bit. "He says that Darkness and Evil aren't necessarily the same thing. I think," she added uncertainly. Pete was nodding, though, and Elliot pumped his head up and down enthusiastically. "Does that make sense to you?" Nora added. "Because it doesn't to me."

It wasn't often that Emma saw Gold at a loss for words. For a moment, he seemed to be stunned into silence. Then he gave a hesitant nod. "I'm still not sure what you think you can do to help," he said, slowly, "but perhaps we'd best start at the beginning…"

* * *

It was a long story to tell and Gold and Emma took turns. Some details were left out; others led them off on various tangents when Pete or Leonora had questions. When they were finished, Pete let out a low whistle.

"Well, that clears up something I've wondered about for more than a quarter century now," he admitted. "I don't do much of what you'd call real travelling—not out of state, except for day shopping trips anyway, but every now and again, I do like to get out on the water." He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. "About twenty-seven years ago," he said slowly, "I decided to take a fishing trip. I went alone that time, though I left a trip plan with Leonora's parents, just in case." His words came slower now, as he thought back. "I hired a downeast cruiser for a week," he went on, "what some folk in these parts call a lobster boat—and figured to make my way down the coast, three days out, three days back, and with any luck, I'd have the boat back to its owner with a day to spare. I'd made the trip before, but it had been maybe six years since the last time." He smiled. "I guess you can imagine my surprise when I spied a harbor a bit south of here that hadn't been there six years earlier."

Gold was frowning. "When I created the curse, I took some steps that were meant to shield the town from outsiders. Those originally from our land could enter freely," he explained, nodding in Emma's direction. "Something I needed to set up if the savior was to have any hope of completing her task. Those who were not from our land would be… encouraged to overlook it. Not quite as effective as a glamor spell," he admitted, "but I couldn't find a way to incorporate one of those into the curse without upsetting certain other elements. No matter how I worked the calculations, the only way that such a spell could be effective was if it were to be cast once the town already existed. And since I wasn't even certain at the time that I'd be able to bring magic into this land, I had to adopt something of a half-measure. Even so, it should have worked."

"How do you mean, overlook?" Leonora asked, frowning.

Gold smiled. "Well, if you were driving along the highway, were you to happen on the exit for Storybrooke, it wouldn't register for you. It wouldn't be invisible, precisely. But if you were looking for a place to explore, or stop for lunch, or," he nodded to Emma, "fill up your gas tank, you'd decide that your needs would be better served at the next exit. And shortly after you'd passed by, all thoughts of the town would vanish from your mind. The same if you were hiking in the woods and came across a trail that ran into the town limits. Other trails would be more appealing and you'd forget about the one you passed by."

"Interesting," Pete said, his forehead creased in thought, "I've always been able to see Elliot, even when he's invisible. Maybe that's got something to do with how I could get past whatever it was you set up. Plus, Elliot had already been living out here for a good twenty years or so. Maybe after all this time hanging out with him, I've just… gotten good at seeing things that are hidden by magic."

"Possible," Gold allowed. "So, you discovered us early on."

Pete nodded. "As it happened, when I packed for the trip, I hadn't realized how low I was on sunscreen until I was already out on the water. I figured your town was as good a place as any to restock. Now, when I put into your harbor, I didn't see a dock master anywhere about, but there were a few fishers there and I asked them where their visitors' berths were. They were a bit surprised to see me—and probably more surprised at my question, I realize, now that you've explained a few things—but one of them pointed me to a spot and gave me directions into town."

He set a small pot of water on the cooking grate. "I've coffee and tea," he added. "It's getting chilly. Now where was I?"

"You were on your way to purchase sunscreen," Gold reminded him.

"Right," Pete grinned. "Well, as far as your town goes, I guess I should compliment you on your… curse getting things almost exactly right. Not entirely right, mind you, but that's due to something about this part of the world that you probably couldn't have known or—seeing as you never expected many visitors—wouldn't have bothered with. Gave me a weird vibe, though, I can tell you."

"I beg your pardon?" Gold leaned forward, his expression intrigued.

Pete nodded, still smiling. "I was walking down the street and thinking about how something seemed to be… off, somehow. It wasn't until much later that I realized what it was. Mr. Gold, I've lived in Maine all my life. I've been up and down this coast from the Canadian border to New Hampshire—and a bit past it in both directions. And one thing that I can tell you is that while most coastal towns and cities have at least one thing to make them stand out. In Passamaquoddy," he continued, "apart from Stu and Lora Chambers still trying to capitalize on that movie with 'Welcome to Dragon Country' memorabilia, we have some local artisans who specialize in carved pine jewellery boxes. And, I'm not sure if you've had the chance to drive all the way down Main Street, but that three-storey brick building is the home of the Passamaquality Toys factory. They specialize in wooden toys: building blocks, cars, trucks, wooden railways…" He chuckled. "No, I'm not on their sales staff.

"The thing is," Pete continued, warming to his subject, "while all of us coastal towns have our specialties, be they saltwater taffy in York, outlet shopping in Kittery and Freeport, or the textile mill in Biddeford, a good chunk of the economy in these parts comes from two places: fishing," he paused for a beat, "and _tourism_." His smile broadened. "And yet, when I walked through your business area, I didn't see any of the typical shell jewellery or 'Greetings from Maine' t-shirts and placemats. No 'Pine Tree State' bumper stickers or Entertain Ya Mania mugs. Not a single souvenir shop. And, more telling, only one hotel in the town and not a single car parked in front at the end of July. Add in the number of people who kept staring at me as though they'd never seen someone who wasn't local, and I don't mind telling you, it made me uneasy enough to want to leave in a hurry." He shook his head. "Of course, since you were intentionally isolated and never meant to have strangers coming through, well, I guess it makes sense, now."

"It's not as though I could do research into something like that from where I was," Gold remarked, slightly defensive. "Or as though the village where I lived for a much of my life had much in the way of tourism, apart from merchants and sailors stopping in at the tavern for a meal and, very occasionally, a room for the night."

As Pete started to reply, Emma felt her phone vibrate. When she saw the text, she felt her heart rate quicken. "Uh… could you guys excuse me for a minute?" she asked, getting up from her chair. "I really need to answer this."

Without waiting for an answer, she started walking along the beach.

* * *

Regina's text had been only two words: Call me. Emma couldn't know whether it was a plea or a command, good news, or bad. But her fight with Zelena had been called for sundown—something, Emma realized with a pang, which had gone clear out of her mind after Henry's email. Regina was calling now, though. That meant that she'd won. Hopefully. Except that Emma had a feeling that if Regina _had_ won, her text probably would have read more along the lines of 'Come back. It's safe.' Or 'I won'. 'Call me' could mean _anything_.

Emma realized that her hands were sweating as she initiated the call.

"Hello, Emma." Was that a note of relief in the mayor's voice?

"Regina? Are you all right?"

There was a moment's hesitation. When Regina spoke again, though, she was back to her usual unruffled calm. "For the moment," she said. "I think I may have something you can use."

"I'm listening."

"First, are you in a secure location? You mentioned monkeys earlier. I don't think either of us wants them reporting back to their mistress."

"You didn't beat her, then," Emma said regretfully. "I'd hoped—"

"On a more positive note, she didn't beat me, either. She wanted my heart. I knew better than to bring it to our little showdown. Are you in a secure location?"

Emma glanced over her shoulder to where the others were still sitting around the campfire. "I'm on a beach and there's not much cover," she said thoughtfully. "I don't think anyone can get close enough to eavesdrop without being spotted."

"Very well," Regina said. "There _may_ be a place where you and Gold can study."

Emma waited. "Okay…?"

"I've just realized something," Regina said, crisply. "Depending on how comfortable Zelena is with this world's technology, speaking openly still might not be wise. If you'll recall, I know how to set up a phone tap. I can't rule out the possibility that Zelena can do the same."

"Can she get the necessary equipment?"

"Depending on the breadth of her magical knowledge, she may not need to. There are spells for eavesdropping. While I've never tried to use one on a phone line myself, I don't see a reason why it wouldn't work. With that in mind, I'm not going to tell you directly where the location is. But I will tell you that it was Belle's suggestion. She knows of a tunnel that goes under the town line. As soon as you mention that to Gold, he should know exactly where she means. Your problem will be finding the entrance your side of the line—if there even is one. Nobody has left Storybrooke by that means or explored what's on the other side of the boundary. It's entirely possible that the passage dead-ends a few yards past the town, in which case it'll be useless. But if it's accessible, it should fit your requirements."

"Got it," Emma said. "How are you holding up? And everyone else?"

"Well, your parents are managing. So far, Zelena hasn't attacked them directly. It's a pretty safe bet that she's after Snow's baby. I mean, why else would she have posed as a midwife?"

"It makes sense," Emma admitted, "but why?"

Regina was silent for a moment. "Before you left, you know she took your father's sword as totem for his courage. If she's after my heart… those aren't just totems; they're ingredients. And I don't want to alarm you—scratch that. You need to be alarmed so you'll recognize how serious this is," Regina rapped out. "Baby parts are key components in far too many spells."

"You have got to be kidding me," Emma replied, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"I assure you I'm not. Not that I've ever cast one of those spells," she added. "Rumple taught me everything I know, but he skipped over those sections of my books entirely."

"I believe you," Emma said. "And you've convinced me. I knew I'd be back before too long. I'll talk to Gold about making it as soon as possible. How's Henry?"

Regina hesitated. "He seems all right, from what I've seen," she said. "But that's another problem. Most of the protection spells I know are meant to be anchored to a location. I've warded your parents' apartment. I can do the same for Granny's and maybe two or three other places that he might frequent. What I can't do is rig up a shield to surround him wherever he goes. There are charms that can do it. Those are more Rumple's expertise than mine, though. I'm working on two of them, but it's taking far too long. Once they're ready, protect the wearer from any kind of magical scrying. Or to put it into terms you're more familiar with, the only way that Zelena will know where he is would be if she—or her flying pests—see him with their own two eyes. I'm working on something to counter that, too. There was a component to the Dark Curse that kept outsiders from venturing into Storybrooke. We weren't invisible until Gold had Belle cast that glamor spell after we left for Neverland."

"Yeah," Emma said. "Gold was just mentioning that a couple of minutes ago."

"Oh?" Regina couldn't quite hide her surprise, though she recovered quickly. "Well, then, I'm sure you can see how something like that would be beneficial in keeping Henry from her notice. Unfortunately, figuring out how to conceal him from my sister while still letting the rest of the town see him normally is giving me some difficulty. The Dark Curse was a complex working of interwoven spells. I'm trying to isolate and modify one thread of it. If I can do that, then when Henry wears the charm, it will… encourage Zelena and her minions not to notice him. He won't be invisible, just rather… inconspicuous."

She sighed. "I haven't got Rumple's patience for this kind of work, but I'm doing my best. However, even if I can create the talisman, I think you'll need to be the one to give it to him. If _I_ do, he'll," Regina hesitated. "He'll be uncomfortable. I'm a stranger to him now. As far as he knows, you're the only mother he has and…" Her voice trailed off. "If I give it to him, he'll wonder why the mayor of a town he's never heard of is giving him gifts. If _you_ give him the talisman, you can tell him it's a souvenir from wherever you are and he'll accept it and probably, hopefully, wear it."

"Got it," Emma said, recognizing what it must have cost Regina to admit she needed Emma's help to protect Henry. She didn't care what Gold thought; this Regina wasn't the woman who had spent months trying to get rid of her, not anymore. She was putting her son—their son—first, regardless of the cost. "Wait. You said you were working on two of them?"

"That's right," Regina confirmed. "I'll get to that in a moment. But first, Emma," Regina said seriously, "there's something else you might want to keep in mind. This morning at Neal's wake, Zelena walked in, smiling as though—to use an outdated phrase—butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Extremely confident, extremely poised, certain that nothing any of us could do would have the slightest effect."

"So, a bit like you were when I arrived in Storybrooke?" Emma quipped. "Uh… sorry."

"Really, Emma, I'm not in the mood to deal with this right now," Regina huffed. "At any rate," she continued in a normal tone of voice, "once Zelena realized that she wasn't getting my heart tonight… I've seen berserker warriors show more restraint. Anger can lend an edge. But that sort of unbridled rage? That leads to sloppiness. If you can provoke her—and keep her from killing you, of course—you might find an advantage in there somewhere."

"Understood," Emma said. "Thanks. Anything else?"

Regina hesitated. "I've known Gold for a long time, Emma. I'm guessing that if he hasn't contacted Belle, he has his reasons."

"He thinks that reaching out to her might let Zelena know she's important to him, which would put her in danger."

Regina sighed. "Unbelievable. He'll tell me how to protect Henry, but he won't ask me to do the same for Belle. Fine. Let him know I'm taking the initiative on that, won't you? That's the reason I'm making the second charm. Wait. I know how Gold's mind works. Tell him it's repayment for his advice. And that Belle wants very much to hear from him. I think the only reason she hasn't tried calling you is because she's afraid to find out that he won't come to the phone. If it makes him feel better about the idea, your parents have told her that she can come to their apartment for the conversation. With the wards I've set up in their loft, it should be safe."

"I'll pass that along," Emma said. "All of it. And thanks. Whether he admits it or not, I'm pretty sure he'll appreciate what you're doing for her."

"Keep me apprised of your plans," Regina said. "There've been enough surprises around here lately."

"Will do. Good night."

* * *

As she approached the others, Emma couldn't help but notice that Gold seemed tense. Once she was within earshot, she understood why.

"So," Leonora was saying, "if she tells you to make her an ice cream sundae, do you have to prepare it, or could you turn her into one?"

"It's not—" Gold started to say, but Leonora wasn't done.

"I play D&D," she said. "And there are these monsters called elementals that you can control with magic, only they're always trying to break free. So the rulebook says you need to be specific and pick orders that won't backfire. Like if you say 'protect me and keep me safe from all harm,' it might take you back to its plane of existence and put you in suspended animation. Or on _Jessica Jones_ , there's this character, Killgrave? He can command almost everyone. And there's this scene where he tells Jessica's best friend Trish to put a bullet in her head. Only Trish doesn't have a gun. So she's got the bullet and she's trying to ram it into her head until Jessica tells her to open her mouth. And then she puts the bullet inside and tells her that there's a bullet in her head now, she's obeyed the order. And Trish is okay after that."

" _Jessica Jones_ is R-rated," Pete frowned. "Your parents let you watch it?"

"I… kind of waited until they were out before I logged onto Netflix," Leonora said, looking away. "Karlie was too busy talking to her _boyfriend_ to notice."

"Karlie's her older sister," Pete explained, as Emma brushed off her deck chair.

Gold's frown hadn't lessened. "While what you're asking is theoretically possible," he said testily, as Emma retook her seat, "Zelena has always been careful with the commands she's issued. They don't leave much leeway for interpretation."

"It was just an idea," Leonora said.

Gold shook his head. "Believe me, dearie, I don't need to be reminded about loopholes. Thus far, there simply haven't been any." He shot Emma a questioning look and she mouthed the word 'Later'.

Finally, Elliot stretched and emitted a yawn that did a fair imitation of a foghorn blast. Pete sighed. "It's getting late," he said. "Give me a hand with the cleanup, Leonora, and I'll drive you home."

"Are you going to tell my folks about _Jessica Jones_?"

"No," Pete said smiling. "But you are."

"But…"

"You want to be taken seriously and treated like an adult?" Pete asked her gently. "That means that when you break the rules you take responsibility, right?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

Pete tilted his head and regarded her, waiting.

"I mean…"

Pete remained silent.

Leonora sighed. "Fine," she muttered.

Behind her, Elliot clucked sympathetically.

Emma turned to Gold. "Guess we'd better head back, too," she said. "I'll bring you up to date back at the cabin."

"You need a lift?" Pete asked.

Gold shook his head. "It's only a short walk."

"All right, then. I should be back in the office in about an hour if you need anything."

* * *

"You sure we should have told them as much as we did?" Emma asked, once they were back in the cabin.

Gold sighed. "If that dragon knows who I am… then he knows who I am," he said. "And despite his apparent willingness to listen to explanations… suffice it to say that the reputation I enjoy in Storybrooke followed me from the Enchanted Forest. I doubt he'd remain quite so affable, were he to catch me in a lie. After all, dearie," he continued, when your," he coughed, "superpower kicks in, how well-disposed are you toward the people who set it off?"

"It went off this morning, when Leonora fibbed about Elliot," Emma pointed out.

"Very well," Gold said. "How well-disposed would you be toward _me_ in that circumstance? She's a child. I'm the Dark One."

"Maybe," Emma admitted, "but I'd like to think I'd give you the benefit of the doubt. Or, at least, give you a chance to explain."

Gold's features softened. "Perhaps you would," he mused, "at least, out here. In Storybrooke, it's likely to be another matter—oh, don't insult me by denying it," he snapped. "Even though I haven't got your talent, I'd spot _that_ lie in an instant."

She felt her face grow hot and she was about to snap back at him, but something made her hesitate. How often _had_ she given him the benefit of the doubt in the time she'd known him? "You're right," she said. "That's something I need to work on." She was about to add that it was hard to judge him favorably, when he didn't give her reasons to do so. She'd seen some of the things that Gold had done and heard about worse. She hadn't forgotten how he'd used her to obtain the potion that would bring magic into Storybrooke while Henry lay dying. He'd tampered with the election that had made her sheriff.

But then, she remembered that he'd also given his life to stop Pan and would have done so in Neverland to save Henry. She remembered the charm that he'd given her son to protect him from nightmares after the Sleeping Curse. The charm had vanished with the town a year ago, but thankfully, so had those nightmares. Her father had been living on borrowed time, due to dreamshade poisoning, until Gold had given him the elixir. He'd told them that it would come at a steep price, but when they'd demanded that he waive it, he'd given in almost at once. The truth, Emma realized, was that he hadn't had to. They'd been negotiating with him from a position of weakness. If he'd stood firm, Emma had no doubt that they would have met whatever price he'd asked, rather than lose David. Gold had to have known it too, yet he'd bowed to their insistence. She had no idea whether there was anything he could do in the future that stood a chance of balancing out what he'd done in the past, but she did know one thing: Regina wasn't the only person in Storybrooke who had earned a second chance.

She sighed. "Here's hoping that when that time comes, I somehow surprise you."

Gold blinked. And for the barest instant, Emma thought she saw a spark of hope in his eyes. Then his armor reasserted itself and he straightened his posture. "What news from back home?" he asked with his customary crispness, as though the last few minutes hadn't taken place. And if his voice seemed slightly gentler, Emma decided not to comment. It would only set them off on another tangent.

"Well," she said, "first of all, she said that Belle had a suggestion for where we could train…"

* * *

"I know exactly where she means," Gold said with a tight smile. It melted quickly. "The mines. While you and your mother were off in the Enchanted Forest, Belle's father attempted a somewhat drastic means to end her association with me." When Emma raised an eyebrow, he sighed. "He hired a certain lowlife to abduct her, handcuff her to a mine-cart, and send her on a one-way journey over the town line. Fortunately, I arrived on the scene in time to save her. _That_ time," he added bitterly.

"At any rate, Belle's quite right. Zelena probably doesn't know about those tunnels. On another positive note, there should be ample space down there for you to hone your magic without endangering people or property, should something go awry."

"If we can find out where the tunnels come out on the other side."

Gold shrugged. "That won't be too difficult. If the guardian dragon is intent on helping us, then all that needs doing is to have the dwarves blow smoke through those passageways. If there's a way for it to escape, it will. And Elliot should be able to spot it from the air."

"And if there isn't?"

Gold shrugged. "Then it will collect in the tunnels and probably fill the mine, before it leaves via the entrance on the town side. I suppose that now, you'll want to warn them about taking the necessary precautions."

Emma shot him a disbelieving look. "Of co—" she started to say. Then she saw the glint of humor in his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Here," she said, pulling out her phone. "Instead of baiting me, call Regina back. She has some questions about those protection charms. And while you're at it, call Belle."

Gold was already reaching for it, but his hand froze.

"You know that's not safe."

"Text her to go to my parents and wait for your call." Emma closed her eyes. "She's worried about you. Just let her know you're all right. Or… doing better than you were, anyway." She smothered a yawn. "I'm going to try those meditation techniques for a bit." She pressed her phone into his hand. "You've already got one advantage," she said gently. "You don't have to worry about whether she still feels the same for you. Give her a little peace of mind."

Gold's fingers curled around the phone. Emma smiled.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

"You're not meant to fall asleep doing that, dearie," Rumple's voice startled Emma into alertness and her eyes flew open.

"I…" She wasn't sure if she should apologize. "I guess I relaxed too much," she admitted.

Gold sniffed. "Obviously." Then something in his eyes softened. "Though, perhaps, it's not entirely your fault. You're relatively new to this and if you've been at it since you gave me your phone, then you've already spent nearly half-again as long practicing now as you did in our earlier sessions." His lips twitched. "You're overdoing things, dearie."

Emma tilted her head and rubbed her eyes. "Two 'dearies' in less than a minute?" she asked. "I didn't think I messed up that badly."

"Don't fall into poor habits," Gold said, with no trace of the mockery that had been in his voice a moment earlier. "You have a finite reserve of power that you can call upon and when it's used up, you will need to rest and replenish. You can't afford to expend it all on… warming up."

"But I'm not expending any of it out here," Emma pointed out.

Gold smiled. "Ah, but you are. Don't confuse a lack of results with a lack of effort. Emma, meditation is the key to unlocking your power. The fact that you can't _do_ anything with it out here is irrelevant." He frowned. "You're running on a treadmill," he said. "You may not be getting anywhere, but your muscles are still going to ache if you keep at it long enough." He waited for her nod of understanding. "When we return to Storybrooke, you'll find it easier to avoid overexertion. For now, though, if you're going to practice without supervision, I'd recommend using a timer. Five minutes of meditation, followed by at least fifteen minutes of rest. And limit yourself to no more than two such sessions in the morning and two in the evening. I'm not done instructing you and the last thing I need is to attempt to give you a lesson when your reserves are depleted."

"Got it," Emma nodded. "So… how'd it go with Belle?"

"Not relevant, dearie," Gold replied lightly, laying her phone on the table. "Rest up. Despite the peacefulness of our surroundings, this is not a vacation."

"I know," Emma said, reaching for the phone. "I just want to read a couple more chapters before bed."

"Very well," Gold replied. "I think that tomorrow we should see about purchasing supplies. If I'm to be camped on the other side of the town line, I've no intention of doing so with nothing but the borrowed clothes on my back."

"You're right," Emma said, nodding again. "We'll head to Calais in the morning."

"Emma?" Gold hesitated. "Remember to charge your phone." He retreated into his bedroom.

"You're welcome," Emma called, as the door closed.

* * *

As soon as she pulled into the nearly-full parking lot, Emma realized that something was wrong. The last time she'd seen Gold this tense in non-threatening (at least, to her!) circumstances, he'd been on an airplane. "What's the matter?" she asked, as she started to circle, looking for a spot.

For a moment, Gold didn't answer. Then, "I don't think that there are this many cars in Storybrooke." His voice was scarcely louder than a whisper. "It's not as though I'll be able to magic us back to Passamaquoddy if we can't find ours when we're done." Before Emma could respond, he continued, "How many people are inside? If we were to get separated, then…"

Emma nodded her understanding. While she hadn't anticipated his reaction, she couldn't say that she was surprised. Since coming to this world, the only time that Gold had ever been out of Storybrooke had been their trip to Manhattan. Considering how many things had gone wrong _then_ , she doubted he had many pleasant memories of it. And, from what he'd told her yesterday when they'd been reminiscing, back in the Enchanted Forest, he'd lived most of his earlier life in small villages and towns. Later, he'd had his castle—Belle had told her a bit about that once—but he'd spent years living there alone. Even when she'd joined him, it had just been the two of them. All of which meant that for Gold? A crowd was probably something like a hundred people. No wonder the size of the parking lot was unnerving him. Hell, Emma had lived in big cities before and _she_ found big box stores a bit intimidating until she got to know her way around them.

"Well, as for finding the car," she said, "you see those poles? They're markers. Without them, I think almost anyone would have a hard time remembering where they parked in a lot this size. After I find a place, check the number on the one closest to us and try to remember roughly how far away from it we are." She smiled apologetically. "I forgot that Storybrooke doesn't have big boxes or shopping malls." She paused for a beat. " _Or_ parking lots bigger than the school football field."

Gold took a deep breath. "It _is_ marginally smaller than Boston airport," he said, relaxing slightly.

"If it's too much to handle," Emma said, "we can try smaller stores. I thought it would be easier to find everything we need when it's all under one roof, but these places can get a little overwhelming." She spotted someone pulling out of a spot several spaces ahead and stopped the car to wait for them.

Gold hesitated. "I suppose if we're already here, we may as well go in," he said. "I'd rather not spend the day combing the area if, as you say, all that we require can be found here."

"Everything but groceries," Emma admitted. "And in some other places, they'd be here, too." The other car left and Emma pulled forward. "Okay," she said. "Looking at all of these cars, it's a pretty safe bet it's going to be crowded in there. If we do get separated, l checked online and I know there's a photo department, here. I'm not sure where it is, exactly, but it's probably as good a place as any to meet. If either of us notices the other one missing, we'll head over there and wait." She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm not planning on leaving you here."

Gold pressed his lips together tightly, closed his eyes, and nodded.

Emma shook her head. "I'm sorry. This whole trip has just been one surprise after another for both of us. It's a lot to cope with." She pulled slowly into the now-vacant spot.

" _You're_ managing."

Emma sighed. "I've also spent most of my life moving around from one place to another. I'm sort of used to surprises. Considering that you've lived in one spot for the last thirty years and never been inside one of these monsters, you're actually handling things pretty well." She moved the car forward another fraction of an inch and turned off the motor.

Gold blinked. Then he sat up a bit straighter. He was wearing one of the knitted pullover sweaters that Pete had given him, but his hands moved automatically to his chest to adjust his non-existent lapels and tie.

She hid a smile. "Ready?"

Gold nodded.

As they got out of the car, she pointed toward the nearby pole. "Section 2A."

Gold nodded again. "Noted."

"Okay. Let's do this."

* * *

Once they'd each grabbed a shopping cart, they headed for the photo department so that they both knew where it was and how to get there. "Great," Emma said when they reached it. "There's even a bench."

"I don't need quite so much hand-holding, thank you," Gold said tersely.

Emma fought down her desire to snap back at him. She reminded herself that he'd been sharp with Henry on the drive to Boston and, especially, in the airport, when he'd realized that his magic wouldn't work in the outside world. Despite appearances, he wasn't angry; he was still scared and trying to hide it. She didn't need to call him out or justify herself. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said. "If you can manage it, I don't mind splitting the list in half and we can each do part. We'll probably get done faster that way."

Gold's knuckles whitened as he gripped his cane more tightly. "I wouldn't say that we need to go _that_ far, dearie," he said.

Emma shrugged. "It was just an idea."

He pressed his lips together and nodded. "Where shall we start?"

"I thought camping equipment," Emma said. "And here's hoping that I didn't leave something essential off the shopping list. I've never actually _gone_ camping before." She paused. "I almost did one time, when I was about sixteen."

"Almost?"

"Yeah," Emma sighed. "An old friend showed up at my new foster home the night before we were going to go. She told me she was in trouble and needed my help. Turned out she'd been involved in an armed robbery and the police were looking for her. I believed her when she told me she hadn't realized what was going on until her boyfriend pulled a gun," she continued, rolling her eyes at her own naiveté. "I even went to the boyfriend's place for her to get something she'd left behind." She sighed again. "And, while I was gone, she robbed my foster family of the money they were going to use on the trip and took off, leaving me to deal with the fallout." She shook her head. "Fallout that ended with my running out of the house and never coming back. I hitchhiked my way to Oregon. I meant to head further south and," here she rolled her eyes again, "see if I could make it to Hollywood and break into acting, but," she smiled, "a funny thing happened when I tried to hotwire a car in Portland…"

"Ah."

"Yeah. Sorry, I didn't mean to go off on a tangent. Thing is, I was so excited about going camping that I must have gone over that checklist about twenty times. I think I remember it pretty well."

Gold nodded. "It's been quite some time, but I have slept out of doors before."

"Somehow," Emma said, "I'm not picturing that."

"Well," Gold admitted with a slight chuckle, "it was a good many years ago. There was an annual fair in our district. The distance from my village could be walked by an average man in, perhaps, six hours." His hand closed around the tip of his cane, now lying horizontal in the upper basket of the shopping cart. "It took me somewhat longer."

"No motels along the way, huh?"

"There were taverns with rooms to let," Gold replied. "Have you ever taken a room over a tavern for the night, Ms Swan? More to the point, have you ever attempted to sleep in a room over a tavern when a score of freighters and wagon drivers were partaking liberally of ale and other strong drink until the wee hours of the morning? Imagine, if you would, that while you were attempting to sleep, said freighters and wagon drivers were generally participating in one of two main activities besides drinking. Either they were engaging in a brawl…" Here he paused for effect. "Or they were _singing_. Or rather… let us say that they were _attempting_ to sing. Valiantly and persistently. Determined that they should not cease their efforts until they either all succeeded in staying in the same key…," his voice took an ominous turn, "…or until the cock's crow proclaimed the dawn. I shall leave you to guess as to which outcome resulted most frequently. And as to which activity was less conducive to slumber, well, I suppose that's a matter of opinion. Mine was that I'd be far better rested sheltering beneath a tree at the side of the road."

Emma laughed. "I can see why. Well, you might or might not need a tent in the tunnels, but we should get a sleeping bag for sure. Probably a camp cot. Maybe a folding table. A Coleman stove—we'll need a propane heater for that. Battery lamps…"

"Light bulbs," Gold interrupted.

"Actually, I think we'd just need extra batteries."

"For you," he explained. "Once you begin to train in earnest, they'll be useful. You'll want a wide range of sizes, several dozen for each. If it were slightly later in the year, I'd suggest the hollow baubles that are typically sold as Christmas decorations, but I think it's still a bit early for those."

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "A bit. Though they do seem to go on sale earlier every year." She looked at her watch. "It's almost half-past eleven. Pete and Elliot should be in place by now. You think they've found the other end of the tunnel, yet?"

"Well," Gold said, "thus far, you haven't received any texts to that effect, though I'd take that as a hopeful sign."

"No news is good news?" Emma asked.

Gold's lips twitched. "Not precisely. If it hadn't worked, I'm fairly sure that by now, Leroy would be tearing down Main Street proclaiming the 'Terrible news,' and your parents would have already advised you of same. Storybrooke's self-appointed herald tends to drag his heels a bit more when he has something positive to report."

Emma rolled her eyes and wished she thought that he was exaggerating.

* * *

There was nobody available to assist them in the camping section, but Gold didn't seem distressed. "We've reviewed the list together," he pointed out. "We have a fairly good idea of what we need. If we've overlooked anything, I daresay Mr. Clark will be able to supply it."

"That's true," Emma admitted as she examined a sleeping bag critically, rubbing the fabric between two fingers. "He could even bring it himself, when he goes to the mines."

"Indeed." His head jerked toward her as he thought of something. "Toiletries."

"They're on the list. We'll bring back the ones in the cabin, too."

They continued through the list, loading up the carts. Once they were done with the camping equipment, they located the lightbulbs. Finding a walking stick took a bit longer, but they were eventually able to track down one of the elusive sales staff to ask for directions.

"I know the clothes here aren't going to be your style," Emma admitted, "but you should probably pick up a few things. I mean, even if we smuggled a couple of your suits to you, I don't think you'd want to be camping in them."

"You don't have to try to convince me, dearie," Gold replied. "I'm not about to wear the same shirt for more than twenty-four hours without laundering it. If that means having a month's supply of fresh clothing with me, so be it."

"Uh, can you take one piece of advice from someone who once hid out in the Yoerg Brewery Caves for a couple of days when she was living in St. Paul and decided she needed a break from her foster home?"

Gold regarded her and raised an eyebrow.

"Temperatures can be all over the place," Emma said. "Especially now it's October and the seasons are changing. You'll probably be better off if you dress in layers. If it's cold, they'll hold the heat better. If it's warmer, you can always wear fewer layers."

"Sensible," Gold nodded. His expression grew troubled. "I know you haven't raised the subject and, obviously, when you found me in the woods, I was in no position to make this declaration, but I realize that our unexpected trip has necessitated some equally unexpected expenses. I want to reassure you: I do honor my debts. You'll be reimbursed for all expenditures as soon as it becomes possible."

Emma nodded back. "I wish I could tell you it wasn't necessary," she admitted with no small relief, "but I _was_ wondering what I'd do this month when I got my Visa bill."

"Worry not," Gold smiled. "Assuming that you succeed in stopping Zelena, I shall have the necessary funds transferred to you forthwith."

"And if I don't?"

Gold shrugged. "Well, I can't imagine that an outstanding credit card balance would be of much relevance to you at that point, dearie." As Emma opened her mouth to snap back with a retort, Gold cut her off. "But with my instruction and your intuitive grasp of effective tactics, there's a fair chance that you'll succeed. Now, then. I believe we walked past the clothing department earlier. It should be back this way."

* * *

Emma wasn't usually impulsive, but when the idea struck her she decided to act on it. She waited until Gold was ready to take his choices into a fitting room to make her move. "Uh… I think I need a few things also. You'll be okay if you're ready before me, right?" She gestured to the bench opposite the entrance to the changing area. "There's a place to wait and everything."

Gold nodded. Now that they'd traversed a good part of the store in their search for various items, Emma realized that he seemed a lot calmer than he had in the parking lot. Maybe he'd just needed to get his bearings.

"Okay. I'll be back in a few."

She didn't take long in women's wear. A couple of underwear three-packs, a couple of t-shirts she didn't need to try on, and a few pairs of socks were all she needed. She dropped them into her shopping cart and took off almost at a run for an aisle they'd passed earlier. Looking at the options before her, she sighed. She'd known that they wouldn't have exactly what she wanted, but maybe what she wanted wasn't the best choice anyway. She'd seen the cage, after all. She'd seen the spinning wheel inside it. In fact, apart from a lone stool, that wheel had been the only piece of furniture in the cage. Even if Walmart had carried them, Emma seriously had to question whether getting one for Gold now would be appreciated, or whether it would only serve as an unpleasant reminder of his captivity. Something else, then?

She eyed the shelves of crafting options again and smiled when something caught her eye. Maybe this would work better. And if it didn't, she thought to herself as she read the back of the box, perhaps she could learn to do it instead. It didn't look that hard.

Decision made, she put the item in the cart, taking care to conceal it under some of the other things she meant to purchase. Then she pushed the cart further down the aisle. She had a feeling that she was going to need more yarn than came included with the item in question.

* * *

Emma got back to menswear before Gold was done. He'd just emerged from the fitting room, when her phone rang. She yanked it out of her pocket and glanced at the caller ID. "Pete?"

She listened for a moment, before she thanked him. "Guess we'll see you later, then. Yeah, you too. Bye."

She walked over to Gold with a broad smile. "If the area you circled on the state map was accurate, the mine tunnel opens up about three miles past the town line in the middle of the forest. Good news: natural camouflage, the tree canopy is pretty thick—Elliot almost missed the smoke—and the monkeys are going to have a hard time maneuvering. There's also a stream passing a few yards from the mouth of the tunnel and the water's clean. Bad news: it's in the middle of nowhere. No roads, not even a hiking trail nearby. Pete said that, as close as he can tell from the air, the closest road is the interstate and it's a good five miles off." She shook her head. "I thought… I'd hoped that if the tunnels were a safe way out, maybe my parents could leave before the baby was born. I mean, there _are_ hospitals out here. But with my mother this far along in her pregnancy, if they're going to have to go through uncleared wilderness on foot, I don't think they can risk it."

Gold nodded soberly. "I'd tend to agree with you. On both counts. But as far as our original plan…?"

Emma nodded back. "It's feasible. We'll meet up with Pete later and hammer out the details, but I think we can make this work."

"Good. What else do we need to buy?"

Emma checked the list. "Groceries," she said. "There's an IGA not far from here. Before that, though," she hesitated. "You know it's probably going to be pretty boring in there sometimes. I… do you want to get some books? Music?"

Gold sniffed. "I don't expect to have much leisure," he retorted. "From what I've seen, between instructing you and going through my own books, which Belle will provide me, there'll be scant time for much else." He hesitated. "Still, I suppose a few crossword puzzle magazines would help to fill whatever spare time remains."

"Sure," Emma said. "If we can't find them here, the IGA will probably have them by the cash. Let's grab some pens."

* * *

In line, waiting to pay, Emma realized that she might have a problem on her hands. She didn't want Gold to see her unload her cart. Maybe it was childish of her, but she wanted to surprise him. Or maybe she just didn't want him to make a scene in a crowded Walmart if she'd made a bad miscalculation. A discount bin in front of an end cap caught her eye and came to her rescue.

"Want to grab a few of those pillows?" she asked, pointing them out when she had nearly reached the row of cashiers. "I don't know how comfortable the camp cot is going to be if the mattress is thin enough to fold in the box. I'll watch for you at the checkout."

Gold nodded and pushed his cart out of line. Another customer moved theirs into the gap behind her. As she'd hoped. By the time Gold got back, Emma had her items safely bagged. Once he made it through to one of the cashiers, she rolled her cart over to the other side of the checkout to meet him. "I'm paying," she explained, when the cashier looked at her.

As they headed back to the parking lot, Emma grinned at him. "Congratulations. You've just survived your first big box shopping experience."

Gold snorted. "I shan't be disappointed if it turns out to be my last," he muttered.

Emma laughed.

* * *

"Mind if we make a fast stop?" Emma asked, as they took the turnoff for Passamaquoddy. "I want to pick up something for Henry."

Gold sighed. "If you must," he said.

"The amulet Regina's making for him won't look much like your typical souvenir," Emma explained. "I'd like to get him something that does. And since there's a dragon-themed store in the neighborhood…"

"You know," Gold said, thinking for a moment, "you might be able to kill two birds with one stone. Like the charm I gave Henry some time back to help him control his dreams, the container is only necessary to house the magical components. Its only requirement is that it be large enough to hold them. With that in mind, you might want to procure a locket or a hollow pendant. If belt pouches have suddenly become the latest fashion, that would be another option."

"They haven't, but I hear you," Emma said. "How much will it have to hold?"

Gold frowned, thinking. "Magic has its own system of measurement. Give me a moment." After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably slightly over a minute, he smiled. "Between one half and three quarters of a teaspoon," he said. "One half would suffice, but Regina prefers a greater margin than is strictly necessary and it certainly won't hurt."

"Would that make the charm any stronger?"

Gold shook his head. "Not appreciably, no. It will extend the duration of effectiveness from twelve months to roughly eighteen. One way or another, matters will be resolved long before that."

"Got it." She drove slowly down Main Street and stopped in front of a green clapboard storefront with a sign over the door that read, 'Dragon Country'.

The interior was bright and airy and boasted a variety of dragon-themed goods that ranged from bumper stickers and pennants to porcelain and resin statuettes. None of the dragons on display remotely resembled Elliot.

"One of these," Gold said, pointing to a display of pewter pendants, each serpentine dragon embracing a quartz egg of a different color.

"I don't think they're hollow," Emma said with a frown.

"It won't matter." Gold glanced around quickly to make sure that nobody else was within earshot. "They're the right size. Regina can easily switch out that egg for a receptacle of the same shape that contains the necessary components."

"All right," Emma acquiesced.

There were posters in front of the checkout. Emma picked up one that depicted a municipal map of Passamaquoddy, with the words "Here there be dragons" inscribed at the top in flowing calligraphic script. A moment later, she and Gold walked back to the Beetle, both purchases ensconced in a plastic bag emblazoned with the shop logo.

* * *

By the time they had the car unloaded and purchases stowed away (Emma made sure to put both her clothes and her gifts in her bedroom; the rest were piled on and around the sofa in the common area), all Emma wanted to do was relax. Gold wouldn't let her.

"Neither of us have that luxury at the moment," he pointed out. "You need to master this and you need to master it quickly." He smiled tightly. "I had you focusing on happier memories earlier because it seemed to me that if you're going to be wielding Light magic, it would help to reverse my usual order. With my other pupils, I've started by having them use anger to unlock their powers."

Emma frowned. "Wouldn't using a negative emotion be more like Dark magic?"

"Emotions are like the elements, dearie. They have no morality of their own. It's all in what you use them for. Now. I want you to think of a moment that makes you seize with anger."

Emma closed her eyes. Two years ago, she'd stood helplessly by in the hospital while Henry lay in a coma. She remembered lifting the book out of Henry's backpack, feeling as though a door had suddenly sprung open in her mind filling it with memories she couldn't have had but knew to be true, all the same. She remembered hearing Regina enter the ward and how, for the first time in her life, she'd felt that she was capable of murder…

"EMMA!"

Emma opened her eyes with a start. Unlike the previous times she'd tried this sort of meditation, she wasn't relaxed. In fact, her head felt like it was in a vise, her heart was doing a drum solo in her chest and her fingers… her fingers were so cold they _burned_. "Wh-what happened?" she whispered.

"I think," Gold said heavily, "that on second thought, we should leave off with this until you're back in Storybrooke."

"What? Why?" She realized that his eyes were wide and his face had paled. "Gold, what just happened?"

"You were pouring too much of yourself into it," Gold explained. "I think it probably has something to do with your having used magic in the past. On some level, your mind remembers."

"So… that's good, right?"

"Well, it would be," Gold admitted, "if you could wield magic here. Unfortunately, you can't—but your subconscious mind doesn't know it. It's expecting results. After all, it's gotten them before. And since it's not getting them now, it's pushing harder. I compared meditation to running on a treadmill earlier. What I saw a moment ago was comparable to your increasing the speed and the inclination. Had I not broken your concentration, the consequences could have been… severe."

"You mean fatal," Emma said.

Gold nodded. "Yeah." It was almost a whisper.

She took a deep breath. "Thanks for bringing me out of it."

He blinked. "You… you're welcome."

Now why was he so surprised? Had he thought that she was going to blame him for not warning her… or was he really that unaccustomed to being thanked? Emma had a sinking feeling that the answer was 'both'.

* * *

It was a bit after three when Pete knocked on the cabin door. "I was just coming to check if you folks got everything you needed," he said.

Emma moved aside so that he could enter. "I think we did," she said. "All the important stuff, anyway." She hesitated. "You're sure Elliot doesn't mind?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Pete confirmed. He glanced over to Gold, including him in the conversation. "He'll fly the two of you back tonight, once it gets dark, along with whatever supplies you need for overnight. Once everything's set, he'll fly you," he gestured to Emma, "back here. And then you can drive back on the main road in the morning with the rest of your stuff."

Emma nodded. "That works. How much can Elliot carry?"

"Good question," Pete admitted. "He's pretty strong, but it's over thirty miles. I'd say that if the weight distribution's good, he can probably manage six or seven hundred pounds, easy. But that's if the weight distribution's good."

"I trust he'll let us know if there's a problem." This from Gold.

Pete sighed. "He likes to help," he said. "Sometimes he overestimates himself. Look. If you need it tonight, then you need it tonight. If you _might_ need it tonight, it's probably okay. Especially if it fits in a backpack and you're carrying it yourselves—less worry about weight distribution that way. I've got a couple lying around I can lend you. If, on the other hand, you know for sure you won't need it until tomorrow, I'd leave it until then."

"What time should we expect him?" Gold asked.

"Sunset's around six tonight, so probably seven-ish," Pete replied. "Uh… he's not always the smoothest flyer. It's safe; he won't drop you or anything. All the same, I would either have an early supper or eat when I got there if I were you and it was my first time flying."

"Thanks," Emma said. "We'll keep that in mind." She looked at the bags in the common area. "I guess we've got some sorting to do."

Pete nodded. "I'll leave you to it then."

Once Pete was gone, Emma turned to Gold. "I'll call my parents and let them know what's going on," she said. "Regina and Belle, too. I mean, in case they want to meet us there."

"That's probably wise," Gold replied with some of his customary crispness. "Get the tearful reunions out of the way tonight. Because tomorrow… the real work begins."

* * *

She went into her bedroom to make the calls. Gold had turned on the TV and she didn't want to talk over it. After she was done, she looked absently around the room. Her gaze came to rest on the shopping bags she'd stowed here earlier. She regarded them for a moment. Then she got up, walked over to them, and picked up the one she wanted. Slowly, she made her way back to the common area.

Gold was still on the sofa, facing the TV, but he looked as though he were a million miles away. Emma cleared her throat.

"Uh…" she began, when he turned to look at her. "I… uh… was going to give you this when we got back. I thought… I mean, I know spinning's more your thing, but you mentioned yesterday that you also used to… I mean…" She reached into the bag and pulled out what she'd bought him. "I mean, I know it's probably a lot smaller than the kind you're used to, but I… uh… I thought it might be more your speed than crosswords."

Gold looked at the flat box in her hand with its picture of the portable loom on the front. Almost as though he were in a trance, he got up from the sofa and walked toward her. "Oh, Emma," he whispered as he reached tentatively for the box. "Y-you didn't have to… I never expected… You…" He closed his eyes. "Forgive me. I'm afraid I'm not… good at this. I suppose I-I'm not used to anyone doing things like… this… for me."

Emma gave him a sad smile and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Well, get used to it," she said softly, but with a hint of steel in her voice. He looked up at her then, brown eyes wide with disbelief. She nodded and repeated it for emphasis. "Get used to it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Emma had no idea how she'd let Pete talk her into this. She had even less idea how he'd managed to talk Gold into this. They were both sitting on Elliot's back, cords around their waists secured to a large fishnet that covered the dragon's belly. Emma had gathered up the edges of the net in both hands and was gripping them for dear life. Gold's arms were locked about her waist and she had a strong suspicion that his head was probably buried in the knapsack she carried on her back. She didn't blame him. Elliot was invisible and, while she could feel his bulk beneath her, seeing the countryside below while holding onto a net that appeared to be suspended in midair was unnerving. She was glad that it was night and that they were flying over uncleared—and, more to the point, unilluminated—land. Had she been able to see how far above the ground they were, she'd probably be shrieking in terror. Riding Elliot was rather like being on a rollercoaster, with no track and no over-the-shoulder restraints. The cords at their waists were holding and their belongings, covered with netting and roped on behind them, seemed to be hanging on just fine, but the winds were fiercer up here. They sliced through her jacket and sweater as though she'd been wearing a tank top. Her hair streamed behind her. She thought Gold might have been screaming something, but she couldn't be sure over the roaring in her ears.

How fast could Elliot fly? How long would it take to cover the thirty-odd miles? She just wanted this ride to be over, but she didn't think she'd be able to handle it if he flew any faster.

She was _so_ glad that she hadn't eaten a thing since lunch, or she probably would have lost it in the first five minutes. She couldn't feel her fingers anymore, but whether it was due to the cold or the cords of the fishing net cutting off her circulation was unclear. How high up were they, anyhow?

As if on cue, Elliot plunged downward. As the trees seemed to surge up to meet them, Emma closed her eyes and thought a quick prayer to anyone who might be listening.

* * *

She'd heard leaves rustle and branches snap as they made their descent, but to Emma's surprise, she didn't think she had a scratch on her. Something bumped against her forehead and it took her a moment to realize that it was Elliot's chin. The guardian dragon, now visible once more, was swiveling his head around to look at them. Although Emma couldn't puzzle out his grunts, the diffident smile and slightly anxious look in his eyes told her that he was checking to see if they were all right.

Emma looked around. They had landed before the mouth of a cave. She heard water running close by and a chorus of frogs. Idly, she wondered whether any of them were princes who'd come over with the last Curse and not changed back. "We're here?" She asked feebly.

Elliot nodded. "Uh-huh! Uh-huh!"

She tried to look over her shoulder, but the knapsack blocked her vision. "Gold? You okay?" He wasn't holding onto her anymore, she knew that much.

There was a moment's silence. Then… "I think so. Although I'm not certain I can get these knots untied without cutting them."

Emma's fingers flew to the cords about her own waist. The strain had pulled the knots tight and her fingers were stiff and aching as she tried to rub the feeling back into them. "You've got a knife?" she asked. She refused to consider how she was going to get back if their makeshift harness was cut. Once the supplies were unloaded, there'd be plenty of nets and rope. And if none of them worked, somewhere in Storybrooke, there had to be something that would.

"In my backpack," Gold said. Emma heard him moving behind her. Then there came a sliding noise and the sound of something hitting the ground. Gold let out an exasperated snarl. "Down there."

"Great." She continued to massage her fingers. "So," she said, "I know a centaur is half human, half horse. And I know a chimera is part goat, part lion, part dragon. And Cerberus is a three-headed dog."

"Your point?"

Emma shrugged. "Is there are special name for something with three heads that's two-thirds human and one-third dragon, or do we have to invent one?"

Elliot guffawed. Gold let out a loud sigh. "Let's hope that you prove more adept at magic than you do humor."

"He likes it." She jerked her head toward Elliot.

"Dragons have questionable taste in jokes."

Elliot's eyes grew wide. His lower lip trembled. He seemed about to cry. Emma sighed. "Really?"

Elliot blew a blast of warm air back at them, grinned, and guffawed again.

"I rest my case."

Elliot regarded them both soberly for a moment. He scratched his chin with one of his front paws. "Hmm," he grunted. He chewed on his claws. Then he brightened. Quickly, he bit off one of his claws. He plucked a hair from his head and dropped it over the severed toenail. The hair split into two. With a flourish, Elliot extended the claw to Emma, base-first.

"Thanks."

It still took a while. The claw had a sharp point, but smooth edges, so instead of sawing at the rope, she had to pluck it apart, strand by strand. Once she severed it on one side, though, the rest fell away and she was able to slide down. "Hang on, Gold," she said. "Let me get at that knife." Still tethered as she was, getting the pack was a bit of a stretch, but she managed it. By now, her fingers had thawed enough for her to get the straps unfastened. She rummaged inside for a minute. "Got it."

The netting made it easier to climb back up. Once she'd fully freed herself and cut Gold loose, she helped him down and pulled his cane out from their netted belongings. (They'd made sure that it was easily accessible when they'd loaded up.)

"Get everything inside the cave," Gold instructed. "If the others are meeting us, we shouldn't keep them waiting. Just get the flashlights so we can find our way; we can unpack the rest momentarily."

"You got it." She looked at Elliot. "Maybe you should go invisible? In case the witch has her monkeys patrolling the woods?"

The dragon nodded and complied. Their belongings remained visible, appearing to hang in midair.

It took far less time to unload than it had to load, now that there was no concern of weight distribution. When they were finished, Emma smiled and waved at the remains of the disembodied fishing net. "We'll be back in a bit. Get to some kind of cover so they don't see the mesh."

A grunt of acknowledgment sounded behind them.

* * *

Their flashlight beams cut the thick darkness as they started out. Before they'd walked a quarter mile, though, they saw a dim light up ahead. Then, they heard footsteps and two more beams of light shone in their direction. A moment later, David and Regina stepped into view. "The town extends a bit further than you thought," Regina said, clearly pleased at having caught Gold in an error. "While the dwarves have only mined for a few hundred feet past the town proper, the boundary is actually less than a half mile from where you landed." She glanced with some irritation at Emma, who was caught in David's embrace.

"Honestly, it's been less than three days since you two saw each other," she snapped. "You can hug after we've brought in your supplies." She waved toward two hand trucks. "Those should help."

She looked Gold up and down and smirked. "Interesting wardrobe selection, Rumpel. Would that be the latest from Dolce and Gabbana? Or, perhaps, Z Zegna?"

Gold narrowed his eyes. "You seem a bit pressed for time, your majesty," he replied affably. "Is there some leather pantsuit convention you need to hurry off to?"

Emma blinked. "Huh?"

"I suppose that what you're wearing is better suited to these surroundings than your normal attire," Regina replied, just as pleasantly. It was hard to tell by the illumination of their flashlights, but Emma thought that the former Evil Queen was blushing a bit.

David released Emma and took one hand truck. When Regina made no move toward the other, Emma shrugged and reached for it. She supposed that the mayor wasn't about to perform manual labor if she could help it.

They probably could have done the job with one hand truck, but since they'd brought two, they split the load. Once they had the lamps on and strategically placed, David set about assembling the cot, while Emma tackled the folding table. "Kind of gloomy, isn't it?" Emma remarked, as she locked the legs into position and lifted the table upright. "I mean, it kind of looks…" Her voice trailed off. _Like your old cell_ was what she'd been about to say.

Gold sighed. "Classical Dwarven architecture tends toward the austere. It also prides itself on mimicking mine interiors. My former cell was a prime example." He smiled faintly. "Truthfully, if I were a dwarf, I might have found it rather comfortable."

"Still…"

"Emma," Regina interjected, "the only other option would be for him to camp in the forest outside. Not only would that be more unpleasant; it would also leave him more vulnerable to the monkey patrols." She spread her hands wide. "This really isn't all that bad. The dwarves even put a privy in," she added with a delicate sniff. "You passed it on your way here."

"That's good, but—"

"Emma." Gold's voice was gentle. "Is it really necessary to remind you of the accommodations I endured in Zelena's cellar? This may not have all the comforts of home, but under the circumstances, I'm hardly about to complain."

"You're right," Emma admitted, chastened. "I'm sorry." She looked away in embarrassment and saw that David had the cot mostly assembled. She moved to get the bedding off of the hand truck.

Behind them, Regina cleared her throat. "I think you have something for me, Emma? Or, at least, for Henry?"

"Oh. Right." Emma pulled the dragon charm out of her pocket.

Regina regarded it critically. "Blue lace agate," she remarked, pointing to the egg at the center. "If it was a better quality stone and Henry was a bit younger, I'd actually look into hollowing it out and using that; it's especially effective at protecting children from general danger. However, Henry's growing up. And he needs protection against a _specific_ danger." She glanced at Gold, this time without mockery. "Red jasper, would you think?"

Gold nodded. "It's not the only stone that would work, but it's certainly suitable. You have a piece that will fit the setting?"

"I do. I should have everything ready by noon tomorrow, if not earlier." She looked to Emma. "Drive back then and I'll meet you at the town line with it, so you can give it to Henry as soon as you see him; Belle already has hers," she added. "She should be stopping by in a bit."

"How are things?" Emma asked. "Seriously?"

David frowned. "It's been quiet today, but I think it's probably the calm before the storm. Your mother is holding up well and trying not to worry, though this sort of stress can't be good for her. In other news, Ariel showed up yesterday, looking for Eric. According to Hook, she found out that he was off on some island somewhere and she left to go find him."

"Left," Emma repeated. "So she isn't in Storybrooke."

"Well, not anymore," Regina said. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all," Gold said. "I'd thought to enlist her aid, but we were able to procure squid ink from a different source. It might prove useful."

Emma sighed regretfully. "I guess I should head back. I don't want to keep Elliot waiting too long."

"He does strike one as the sort who might wander off if left to his own devices," Gold agreed.

"Wait," David said. "Are you sure it's safe?"

She wasn't, but that was beside the point. "My car is still in Passamaquoddy," she reminded him. "He's my only way to get back there. And hey. He got us here in one piece." She grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow."

David nodded reluctantly.

She turned to Gold. "You need a hand with anything before I leave?"

Gold shook his head. "I believe I'll manage. What time should I expect you tomorrow?"

Emma considered. "The dwarves usually pack it in around five, right? I'll come then." She made a face. "I don't know if I'll be able to focus if I have to listen to all those pick-axes chipping away."

"Sensible," Gold admitted. "Five o'clock, then."

"The dwarves will be bringing you enough food for breakfast and lunch when they come to work tomorrow morning," David said. "Do you have something for tonight?"

Gold nodded. Whether he was in the mood for it was another matter, but there was a large thermos of vegetable soup in the supplies, and a cooking pot, in the event that by the time he wanted any, the soup had grown too cold to be appetizing.

Emma looked at Regina. "Anything else I should know about?"

"Offhand?" Regina answered. "Nothing that won't keep until you drive back. But plan on spending some time tomorrow afternoon being brought up to speed." She glanced toward David. "I'll ring you and Snow in the morning and we'll set up a time."

David nodded.

Emma smiled. "Okay," she said taking a deep breath. "I… guess I'm off, then."

"Be careful," David urged.

"You too."

* * *

On the whole, Gold had to admit that they'd done a decent job preparing for his arrival on short notice. The boundary line was clearly marked with bright orange paint. Someone had rigged a curtain on his side of it, allowing him his privacy. He left it open for now. After having spent he wasn't sure how long confined in that cage and locked in that cellar, he'd imagined he'd had his fill of enclosed places.

It occurred to him that it might make more sense to position some of the battery lamps at intervals along the tunnel; they'd bought six and two were all he needed to illuminate these quarters. He picked one of the others up and started back down the tunnel.

He'd gone perhaps a dozen yards, when he noticed that part of one wall was blocked off by another curtain some four feet wide, which extended from floor to ceiling. When he pushed it aside to investigate, he discovered a small alcove that, when he shined the lamp about, revealed a hastily improvised bathroom containing a chemical toilet, a water tank, and a camping shower. There was an empty gallon jug next to the tank; he supposed that he was meant to go to the stream if he needed to refill it. So, this was the privy that Regina had mentioned. He smiled. Such amenities were most welcome. He'd fully anticipated that he'd need to leave the tunnel to take care of that sort of thing, and while it had come as a relief to realize that he'd only have to walk a half-mile to reach the forest instead of the three he'd been expecting, this was better by far. He was glad that someone had spied the alcove and realized the possibilities. That nature would be obliging enough to provide such a recess in the tunnel wall was a boon he'd not anticipated.

His smile faded, replaced by an expression of utter shock, as he realized that the indentations on the alcove walls and around the arched entranceway were too precise and too fresh to be nature's doing. In fact, they looked suspiciously like the work of dwarf pickaxes. The _recent_ work of dwarf pickaxes. But… this must have taken hours. And on this side of the town line, there could have been no magic to help speed the task along.

Stunned, he deposited the lamp on a wide stone ledge that encompassed the alcove's three solid walls, walked back to his cot and sat down. His gaze fell on the portable loom box. Emma had left it on the folding table, together with several skeins of yarn and a promise to bring the rest tomorrow. He hadn't woven in years—not since he'd mastered the art of turning straw to gold—but he doubted he'd forgotten everything. It might be exactly what he needed in order to relax.

He had the loom out of the box in moments. It didn't take long to assemble; he barely needed to glance at the instructions. He had almost finished setting up the warp, when he heard hurried footsteps crunching on the sandy floor. Then she came into view.

"Rumple?"

And then she was running, closing the distance between them, nearly flying over the spray-painted border line, taking only a moment to set a tote bag on the ground before she fell into his open arms.

 _"Belle!"_

* * *

The flight back to Passamaquoddy wasn't as bad as the flight there had been. Maybe it was because she no longer heard the supplies shifting or the ropes that had held them in place straining with every turn or gust of wind. Maybe the winds were lighter or the dragon was flying more slowly. Or maybe Gold's apprehension had been contagious and without his tense presence behind her, she was able to relax and enjoy the experience a bit better.

Pete and Leonora were there to greet her when Elliot touched down on the beach. "It went well?" Pete asked, as Leonora clambered up with a knife to cut the ropes that held Emma on the dragon's back.

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "I think so. Uh… I guess I'd better give you back your grandfather's cane."

Pete nodded back. "If you're leaving in the morning, that's probably best." His expression was concerned. "I might not know much about magic or curses or other realms," he said, "but I guess I don't have to know a lot to know that you're going to have your work cut out for you."

Emma nodded again. "Tell me about it," she said, sliding down.

"I was thinking," Pete continued, "if it came down to it; if things didn't work out the way you're hoping and some of your people made it out through that mine tunnel… Well, Elliot's got a mind to hang around in those woods for a bit. Just in case, you understand." He smiled apologetically. "If I were a bit younger, I'd probably want to help too, but short of offering up this motel as temporary lodgings, there's not much I can do."

Emma smiled. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," she said, "but thanks." She felt a light touch on her shoulder and turned to discover that it was Elliot's chin. She laughed and tentatively stroked his nose. "Thank you," she said. As much as she would have wanted her parents to take advantage of the offer, she knew that they wouldn't. Her mother had fought to regain her kingdom once. And even if that kingdom was now a seaside town in Maine, there was still no way that Snow White and Prince Charming would abandon it to Zelena. That was even assuming that her mother could ride a dragon in her condition.

Leonora tugged at her sleeve. "What's it like? Flying? Elliot's never taken me."

Pete laughed. "The day your parents okay it, he'll take you up. Until then…"

"I know, I know," Nora pouted. "But what's it like?"

 _Harrowing… nerve-wracking… exhilarating…_ She smiled down at Leonora. "Incredible."

* * *

For several long moments, his world contracted to a space barely big enough for two to stand in a tight embrace. And despite his earlier ruminations, he didn't feel constricted, not when that second person was Belle. He held onto her, without speaking, never wanting to let go. Belle seemed just as reluctant to relinquish her hold on him.

Eventually, his ankle forced the issue. Without a cane, there was only so long he could stand still without it aching. When the joint started to buckle, he apologetically steered her toward the cot. She sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Rumple," she whispered, squeezing his hand tightly. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Nor I you," he admitted, forcing the words past the lump that had formed in his throat.

"You're so thin," she lamented. "David said you told him you had enough to eat, but I can go get you something at Granny's if he misunderstood."

Gold shook his head, but he was smiling. "He didn't." Then he sobered as he continued. "Unfortunately, three days of freedom can't quite reverse the effects of months of…" he pursed his lips and forced the smile back. "Well. Let's not dwell on that tonight. How have _you_ been bearing up through all of this, Belle?"

Belle smiled shakily. "I've done all right, I suppose. Considering. I… When I found myself back here, the last thing I remembered was watching you d-die," her voice faltered for a moment. "If I'd had any idea that you'd come back, I would have torn the town apart looking for you."

He sandwiched her hand between both of his. "Of course," he murmured. "Of course you would have. If you think for one moment that I blame you for any of this…"

"And then, three days ago, Emma and her parents and Hook came into the shop with a piece of straw you'd spun into gold and told me that you were alive and…" Her voice broke. "Oh, Rumple. I'm so sorry about Neal."

He nodded wordlessly and felt his lips twist as he fought to keep his emotions under control. Crying now wouldn't solve anything. They had to stop Zelena. He needed to ask Belle what she'd uncovered, look through the magical tomes she'd brought him—he could see one of them peeking out of the tote bag she'd carried with her. He could let his pain out later, after the crisis was past and his dagger was safely back in his possession. He could…

Belle drew him into another embrace and he put his head on her shoulder and sobbed.

* * *

Emma didn't sleep well that night. Somehow, with Gold gone, the apprehension she'd been keeping at bay seemed to come crashing in on her. It was really happening. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. She was going to have to face Zelena in some sort of magical duel. Zelena, who had already fought Regina to a stalemate. Zelena, who had held Gold captive for weeks, perhaps months. Zelena, who—according to Gold—possessed greater power than Regina and had spent a lifetime learning how to use it.

Emma was going to have to face her with almost no training, with magic she didn't fully understand and barely knew how to use. And even with Gold's instruction, it was still going to come down to 'Jump off the deep end and hope you can figure out how to swim'. She'd managed to keep a lid on her panic while Gold was here; she'd suspected that her fears would only feed his and someone had to be the brave one. But Gold wasn't here now and Emma was alone with her apprehensions.

Irrationally, she found herself getting angry. At Gold, for telling her that she was the only one who could defeat Zelena; at Hook for barging into her life almost a week ago and destroying the illusion she'd been living under for the past year. _De_ lusion, if you wanted to get technical, but it had felt real. It had been good. She'd been happy. And there was a part of her that wished she could write this whole thing off as a dream and go back to New York.

She was kidding herself. She knew that. She was the Savior. She had to do this. And afterwards? Maybe her life in New York had all been a lie, but it had been a _good_ lie—and one that Henry still believed. He loved New York, too. And right now, her parents, Regina and the rest of the town were strangers to him. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe, when all this was over, the rest of the town would return to the Enchanted Forest and they _could_ go back to New York.

She didn't want to dwell on what it would mean if Storybrooke stuck around this this time. She couldn't face that tonight, not with the task ahead. Maybe afterwards.

But for now… If she couldn't sleep, she might as well read. The first two books hadn't been much help, but maybe _Ozma of Oz_ would be better.

* * *

When Belle opened her eyes, she wasn't certain where she was. There was a heavy sort of blanket over her and she was looking up at a shadowy ceiling of some sort of sandy-colored rock. Then her memory came flooding back and she threw off the blanket, feeling cold metal brush her arm lightly as she did, and sat up. "Rumpel?"

He was sitting at the folding table, his head bent over the portable loom he'd shown her earlier, but he got up immediately and hastened to her. "Easy, Belle," he said softly. "You've had a bit of a sleep. I didn't want to wake you."

She took in her surroundings once more. She was on the camp cot. Beside her was the blanket—an unzipped sleeping bag; the metal she'd felt a moment ago had been the teeth from the zipper track—and there was a pillow beneath her elbow. "You should have," she said with some consternation. "You must be tired yourself. I didn't mean to fall asleep in your—" She broke off as Rumple's fingers brushed her cheek.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asked seriously.

Belle frowned. "I… I'm not sure. I was trying to find a way to help you, and I've been going through your books to see if I could get some idea of what sort of spell Zelena's trying to cast, and I've been worried and…" She drew a shuddering breath as Rumple joined her on the cot and pulled her toward him. "I know I've had _some_ sleep in the last three days," she murmured, "but I couldn't tell you how much."

His expression was grave. "As I suspected," he sighed. "You're exhausted, Belle. You needed rest. You probably still do."

She seemed about to argue, but a yawn escaped her and she smiled guiltily instead. "What time is it, anyway?" she asked, looking at her watch. Her eyebrows lifted. "It's past six. The sun must be just coming up."

"I imagine so."

She caught hold of his sleeve. "You know I've never seen the world outside of Storybrooke. I-I mean, I know I'm over the town line now, but this tunnel doesn't feel any different. Could we… take a look outside? And watch the sunrise? Together?"

That was right. He might not have access to his magic, but that didn't mean that he was trapped here. Smiling, he reached for his cane. "I don't see any reason why not," he replied, getting to his feet and extending his other hand to her. "Come."

* * *

Rumpelstiltskin wondered how long it had been since he'd last seen a sunrise. He seldom had reason to. In his castle, he'd nailed tapestries against the windows to keep out the light of day. Dark Magic sometimes needed to be cast by the light of the moon—or on a night when the clouds were so dense that moonlight and starlight could not penetrate. On occasion, he'd even had reason to cast an incantation during a total solar eclipse. But in general, sunlight was either inconsequential or detrimental to his brand of magic.

Most of the time, when the sun came up, he was either asleep or puzzling out some particularly thorny difficulty; in either case, oblivious to the time of day. Of course, it was one thing to deprive oneself of daylight by choice. It was quite another to have someone _else_ shut you away for an extended period of time.

It was a glorious sunrise.

As the last bit of orange fire faded from the morning sky, Belle leaned against him and smiled. Even as Rumple smiled back, though, he realized that something was wrong. She pulled away abruptly, but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes. He started after her. "Belle? Belle, what is it?"

She stopped then and let him catch up. "Nothing," she said shaking her head. "Nothing."

It didn't sound like 'nothing,' but he wasn't about to badger her. When he placed his hand on her forearm, she covered it with her own. She took a deep breath and then let it out. "I'm sorry," she said. "Coming out here… I'm glad we did. It's beautiful and worth seeing and the view is wonderful." Her voice hardened. "But I've only just realized…" Her voice trailed off. She took another breath. "I remember it all, you know," she said. " _Not_ remembering. When Hook sent me over the town line. How I forgot all of this... How confused I was in the hospital. I…" Her laugh was a thin bitter thing. "The way I acted when I was Lacey makes me cringe," she continued, "but at least then, I thought I knew who I was. I'm sorry," she said again, leaning into him. "I was thinking about what could have happened before that. If that man had been just a little bit faster starting that mine cart," a note of cold fury crept into her voice, "I would have emerged here. In the middle of the wilderness. With no idea who I was or how I'd gotten here. No idea where to go." She shook her head. "And that's if I even got free of that stupid cart; as I recall, I lost the handcuff key somewhere on the ground when I was trying to free myself before I crossed over."

She shook her head. "Back in our land, I'd read enough to know how to recognize which plants were safe to eat and which were poisonous, but who's to say I would have remembered any of that once past the line? Or whether the plants I knew there even grow in this wood?" she gestured toward the forest that surrounded them.

"Belle," Rumple took her hand in his. "It didn't happen that way. You're here. You're safe." He smiled. "You're you."

She nodded shakily. "I think it just hit me. I could have died here. Wandering… lost… confused… alone. I can't believe my father didn't consider that."

"Perhaps he truly felt that giving you a life with no recollection of your past would be giving you your best chance," Rumple managed. He had no love for Mo French, but he knew that Belle did and he found himself wanting to blunt some of the pain that her newfound realization had given her. "He lived twenty-eight years with false memories and no idea of the man he truly was. Doubtless, he assumed that once he sent you over the town line, your own memories would be altered in a similar fashion. I don't believe he realized that the boundary curse would strip away your recollections and leave nothing in their place."

"Well," Belle said in a choked voice, "he should have."

There wasn't much he could say to that. So he shook his head silently and drew her close.

* * *

Emma stayed up till dawn reading _Ozma_. When she finished, she realized with a sense of irony that she had a better idea on how to do battle with the Nome King than with Zelena. Come to think of it, that creep would probably be right up Gold's alley, too, with his penchant for gambling with a stacked deck.

She yawned and decided that she could get a few hours of sleep before driving back home. Back to _Storybrooke_ , she corrected herself. Home was New York and she wasn't ready to go back quite yet. Soon, though. Soon.

She woke at eleven. Within twenty minutes, she had washed, dressed, and settled her bill. At twenty-five past, she was back on the highway. When she drove over the Storybrooke town line at twelve noon, Regina was waiting for her with a serious expression. She pulled over at once and the mayor got in on the passenger side.

"It's good you're back," Regina said, not even trying to hide her relief. "We have real problems."

Emma's sarcastic retort died on her lips. Regina's usual aplomb was not much in evidence at the moment. "What's happened?" she asked.

For a moment, the mayor didn't answer. When she did, Emma felt her own blood run cold for a moment. "Earlier today," Regina replied, "Zelena took my heart."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Emma looked at Regina in disbelief. "How?"

Regina sighed. "I entrusted it to Robin Hood for safekeeping. He and his men are camped in the forest. I… figured that a thief would have some experience in safeguarding valuables. Plus," she added tartly, "back in the Enchanted Forest, he was extremely good at avoiding my soldiers."

Emma nodded. "So… he wasn't as good as you'd hoped?"

"It's not that simple," Regina replied. "Zelena turned up on my doorstep this morning, bright and early, with a basketful of Granny Smith apples. And, while she was distracting me, she sent her monkeys off to the forest to find Robin's camp. When faced with a choice between surrendering my heart… or having them drop his four-year-old son from a height of about a hundred feet onto a pile of sharp rocks, Robin made the only decision he could have."

"Wow." Emma let out a long breath. "But if she has your heart…?"

"Well, she can't control me," Regina explained. "My heart's protected against that kind of thing." Her expression grew more worried. "She _can_ crush it, however. The fact that she hasn't yet, means that she's got something else in mind."

"You mentioned before that you thought it was an ingredient for something. Any idea what?"

Regina shook her head. "Belle asked me something similar earlier. Unfortunately, I don't have any answers. Whether it's because we're," her face wrinkled in distaste, "family, or whether any heart will do, but she decided to use mine out of malice isn't something I can answer. Until we know what kind of spell she's working on, that's not likely to change." She smiled. "However…"

"However?"

Regina sat up a bit straighter in her seat. "Here," she reached into her blazer pocket and held up the pewter charm, now incorporating a vermillion red stone in place of the striated pale blue one that it had housed initially. "When you give it to Henry," she said, "give him this, too." She passed over a cardboard rectangle about the size of a business card.

"Red jasper," Emma read "is a stone of warriors and heroes. It is a promoter of justice, protection and life…"

"I pulled it off the internet," Regina explained. "I thought that if he understood the significance, he might be more inclined to remember to wear it."

"Good idea," Emma nodded. "You were about to say something…?"

Regina nodded. "I think I know a way to get our answers. Come to my house at three; that should give us plenty of time before you go meet with Rumple. Your parents will be there, too; I already told them about it. In fact, Snow has to be there for this to work."

"Wait. Be there for what to work?" Emma asked. "What are we going to do?"

Regina smiled. "We're going to talk to my mother."

* * *

Henry, Mary Margaret, and David were sitting down to lunch when Emma arrived at the loft. Henry greeted her with a glad "Mom!" and a warm embrace. Emma happily returned it and threw an apologetic look at her parents over his shoulder. Henry was already confused and suspicious enough. As far as he knew, until a week or so ago, Emma hadn't seen or heard from the Nolans in over a dozen years. She'd never mentioned them to him. And there was no way that Henry could believe that they were her parents when they seemed to be so close in age. So, as much as she wanted to greet them with another hug, she refrained.

Her parents' understanding smile didn't make her feel much less guilty.

"You were right, Kid," she added. "There is a lot of dragon stuff in Passamaquoddy. Not," she added, "much like anything in that movie, mind you. But all the same…" she went on, as she passed him the bag containing both charm and map poster.

"Dragon Country?" Henry asked, with a laugh.

Emma shrugged. "Maybe we'll go back together some time and check it out."

He pulled out the necklace, with the handwritten card Regina had included. He read it and grinned. "Awesome!"

Emma smiled. "I don't know how much I believe about the magical properties of gemstones," she admitted, "but a little protection doesn't hurt." She shook her head, sobering. "And after what happened to your dad, maybe you ought to wear it for a while. Just in case."

"Wait." Henry met her eyes sharply. "Am I in danger? From the guy who killed my father?"

Emma took a deep breath. "I hope not. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. It's part of the reason I don't usually take you on jobs with me; some of the people I chase after are pretty bad news, and I don't want to risk anyone trying to use you to get to me. But when I found out about your father, there was no time to make other arrangements. Plus, I was hoping you'd be able to meet him. I know there've been times when you've wanted to." She hesitated for a moment, debating with herself, before she decided to continue. "I'm sorry to say that Walsh was… involved."

"No way," Henry breathed.

Emma nodded. "He was in New York to keep me occupied. This whole… thing… has been in the works for some time. I'm pretty sure that if I'd accepted his proposal that night, he would have whisked me off to some cozy romantic getaway somewhere by the time Killian showed up." She hoped Henry wouldn't remember that Hook had actually turned up at their apartment before Walsh's proposal. He probably wouldn't. He'd been at the table when Emma had answered the door and she'd gotten rid of Killian pretty darned fast. She sighed and continued. "He… showed his true colors when I turned him down." She shook her head ruefully. "In other words, he turned out to be a real monster. Nothing I couldn't handle, though." She smiled. "So, that's why I'm going to be a bit overprotective for the next little while. I don't want you going off by yourself, if you can help it. And… just in case there's anything to this stuff," she added, pointing to the card still in Henry's hand, "I'd feel better if you wore that necklace while we're here. I mean, even if I don't normally hold with all of that New Age stuff, it can't hurt. You can tuck it into your shirt, if you like," she added.

Henry nodded and slipped the leather cord over his head and around his neck. "Maybe I'll wear it out," he grinned. "I kinda like it." He unfurled the map. "And this is great, too. I think I'll put it over my bed when we get back to New York."

"Good idea."

"By the way," David said, "Leroy called before. I was going to mention it when Emma walked in, but he wanted to know if you'd like to go fishing with him again. He's going with some of his work buddies."

Henry looked at Emma. "Is that okay? I mean, after what you've just told me?"

"Absolutely," Mary Margaret said. "Leroy's a good friend of ours and he's definitely someone you want on your side if there's trouble. The same can be said for his friends."

Emma nodded. "I don't want you to feel like you've got to stay cooped up in here. Leroy's trustworthy. So's Regina. And Killian. Anyone else… check with one of us or one of them first." She took a deep breath. "And… there's one person I want you to steer clear of. I don't have enough evidence to bring her in, yet, and should you meet her, I don't want you to say or do anything to make her think she's under suspicion, but until we're certain that she isn't, I want you to assume she's dangerous. Her name is Zelena. And I don't care if you're with someone else or on your own; should you encounter her, get away fast. I'm serious."

Wide-eyed, Henry nodded. "Got it."

"Okay. You've got your phone with you?"

"It's charging. Probably ready by now."

"Make sure you take it when you leave. I know," she added with a sigh that was half-laugh, when Henry's eyes glazed over slightly. "You're not a little kid anymore and you know how to handle yourself. But do me a favor and check in every so often anyway? I'm still your mother and I'm still going to worry."

"Sure."

"I'll call Leroy, then," David said. "Tell him you're looking forward. Will you be ready in about half an hour?"

"Sure," Henry said again, with more enthusiasm this time. "Let me go change and get the phone."

After he'd gone into the other room, Emma sank down into the chair he'd vacated and sighed. "I hope I did the right thing, telling him about Zelena. I didn't want to risk her luring him away if anything went wrong with the charm."

Mary Margaret got up, walked behind her, and placed her hands on Emma's shoulders. "Of course, you did the right thing, Emma. At least now he has some idea where the danger is, even if he doesn't know the whole story."

"And while he's off with the dwarfs," David added, "we're free to head over to Regina's."

* * *

"…And then, I had to leave to come here," Emma concluded.

Gold nodded slowly. "I'm familiar with that particular ritual. Even when all the necessary casting conditions are met," he sighed, "the spirit being summoned has the freedom to decide whether it wishes to respond. Evidently, Cora chose not to."

Emma nodded her understanding.

"What was the pirate doing there, anyway?" he asked.

"He's kind of been looking out for my parents," Emma said. "And Belle." She saw his eyes harden and added quickly, "When we found the farmhouse—well, the cellar—and we saw the cage… Once we saw those straws you'd spun, we knew what it meant and we went to the shop to see whether you'd been there. We figured that if you came into town, you'd go looking for her and we… I thought… it would be a good idea for Hook to hang around in case the witch got to her first."

Gold shook his head. "You do know that he's tried to kill her in the past," he rapped out.

"Belle pointed that out, too."

"On two separate occasions."

"If it makes you feel any better, he did apologize. According to my parents, he's sort of been hanging around them for the last few days. At least, when he hasn't been keeping Henry busy enough not to realize that something else has been going on."

Gold snorted. "That won't last long. Henry has always been an extraordinarily perceptive young man, and I have a hard time believing that that's changed any in the last year."

"It hasn't," Emma admitted. She told him what she'd said to Henry when she'd given him the dragon charm earlier. "I figured that was as much as I could tell him without getting into… magic. And flying monkeys."

"Sensible," Gold approved. "You don't want him blundering into danger, simply because he isn't aware that there is any. And there's no guarantee that he'll remember to wear that talisman."

"And I can't remind him about it without making him suspicious, because I've never been big on good luck charms or… or aromatherapy or mystical gemstone powers."

Gold chuckled. "If you should ever choose to delve into that sort of thing, dearie, I trust you'll have the sense to get your information from a reputable source. What you'll find on the internet tends to be, at best, incomplete. At worst… Well, you don't want to fool around with magics you don't understand. So," he smiled. "Let's begin to make some sense out of yours. We both know you have considerable raw power. However, to defeat Zelena, you need to learn to harness it. We're going to work on channeling your magic, narrowing its focus, directing it only where you want it to go. I've seen you exhibit no small skill when playing darts at Granny's. In a sense, that's what you're going to learn to do with your talent. Instead of releasing it as a tidal wave of force in a general direction, your goal should be concentrated… narrow 'darts' aimed at specific targets."

His lips twitched. "This will be beneficial in two ways. First, you'll find the new way far less draining. Second, once you can pinpoint your strikes, there'll be significantly less danger of inadvertently harming one of your companions." His smile faded. "You can't assume that any fight with Zelena would be strictly one-on-one. In fact, if Zelena is able to arrange it, it almost certainly won't be. If you're too worried about injuring others, you'll be facing her at a disadvantage. And," he sighed, "we both know that you will be. So, we need to take steps to mitigate that disadvantage."

"How?" Emma demanded.

"You brought the lightbulbs with you?"

For answer, Emma gestured toward the mine cart behind her. The bags that had seemed so numerous when she'd loaded the car this morning looked pitifully few when she peered at them over the edge of the cart.

"Right. At some point, we'll want Regina down here to levitate them, but for today, you'll be dealing with stationary targets. Take out the largest bulbs, remove them from their packaging and spread them about. If you can contrive to fit them on some of the ledges and projections, so much the better. I doubt that Zelena will be obliging enough to lie on the ground for you. Oh and push that cart out of the way. Indeed, send it as far back as you can; once you start flinging magic about, there's a good chance that you'll incinerate the thing and," his lips twitched, "you may discover that Leroy won't be the only grumpy party."

* * *

Meditating was harder here than it had been in Passamaquoddy. Now, when she fell into her memories, she was aware of something pulsing below the surface, struggling to emerge. When Gold finally told her to open her eyes, she felt as though she was going to fly apart.

"Now," Gold said calmly, "imagine that you are in Granny's. In your hand is a dart. Picture it. No, don't turn your head to look at it," he said sharply, but it was too late. For a split-second, she saw a long needle of bright light between her thumb and fingers. Then it vanished. Gold sighed.

"You still can't quite allow yourself to believe," he said. "The moment you see your magic, your immediate thought is that you can't be doing it and therefore," he spread his hands apart, "you are not. Again."

Emma closed her eyes and tried to focus once more.

"Again."

"Again."

"Ag—"

With a snarl of frustration, Emma drew back her hand and flung wide. A globe of white flame flew from her fingers. It shattered the bulb and drilled a neat, shallow hole in the wall behind it.

"Now, we're getting somewhere, dearie," Gold said calmly.

Wide-eyed, Emma held up her hand and looked at it as though she were seeing it for the first time. "No way," she breathed.

Gold sighed. "Or perhaps not. You'd best clean that up."

Emma blinked. "Uh… yeah. Okay. Do you know if the dwarfs keep a broom anywhere around here?"

"Not that way," Gold snapped.

He gestured toward her fingers. For a moment, Emma thought that he meant for her to clean up the glass with her bare hands. Then she realized what he had to mean. "Magic?"

"I'm not asking you to put the bulb back together, dearie. Just pick up the fragments." He sighed. "What was the bulb made of?"

"Glass," Emma said, confused.

"And what are these walls and this floor made of?"

"Rock."

"Can you distinguish one from the other without magic?"

"Yes."

"Now, try to do so _with_ magic."

"One piece at a time?" Emma demanded.

Gold laughed. "Oh, I didn't say that, did I? Your task is enough of a challenge without trying to make it harder on yourself. Just collect the pieces and deposit them…" he pointed down the tunnel. "Well, I suppose the mine cart will do, unless you find something else in the tunnel that resembles a dustbin." He sighed. "Relax. Breathe. Focus. Concentrate. The power is yours to control. Use it."

Emma closed her eyes. She tried to picture her magic. She didn't want a needle this time; she couldn't pick up glass splinters with a needle. She needed something broader. Like the force globe she'd hurled a moment ago, but not that powerful. What she wanted was something that could sweep all the fragments together and lift them up where nobody could step on them. Something… something like a wind. A cyclone! A small one, anyway. Nothing like the storm that carried Dorothy to Oz in the book, just something… manageable. Almost unconsciously, she made a circular motion with her wrist and pictured a miniature tornado spinning over the tunnel floor, scouring it clean of glass. She could see it clearly and she crooked a finger, beckoning it closer. There was something blowing over her palm.

"Open your eyes, Emma." Gold's voice seemed to be coming from far away. She obeyed and her breath caught. There was a small funnel-shape, perhaps no more than a foot high, dancing in midair over her open hand. "Breathe," Gold urged her. "Focus. Maintain your concentration."

The tornado, which had already started to waver, stabilized as her disbelief faded. Her eyes widened. This time, it was not in doubt, but in wonder.

"Emma," Gold said calmly, "I want you to think carefully about the winds you're commanding. Note the direction of the spin."

"Clockwise," Emma replied absently, her attention still drawn to the miniature windstorm in her hand.

"And now," Gold continued, "I want you to try to reverse that direction. Expect resistance. It's natural, but you can overcome it."

She felt sweat on her forehead. The winds might not have the force of a full-scale tornado, but they were strong enough.

"Counter-clockwise," Gold said. "Remember our exercises. Don't just _see_ the winds. Feel them. Hear them—"

 _Taste them. Smell them._ It sounded silly, but she tried anyway. She closed her eyes again and sank her magic deep into the spinning vortex…

"Open your eyes, Emma." Gold's voice was gentle.

When she did so, she blinked. The tornado was gone. In her cupped palm was a pile of glistening glass splinters. "Whoa."

"Don't cut yourself," Gold cautioned, crisp once more. "Healing spells are an entirely different subject and one we'll not explore today. Dispose of the fragments and then come back here. As you noticed, your focus still needs some work. We need to address that."

Emma nodded calmly. As she trotted down the passageway, though, she regarded her hand as if it were a live serpent.

* * *

There was a garbage can in the area of the mine where the dwarfs were working—or at least, an open barrel that served the same purpose. Emma dropped the shards inside and studied her hand carefully, trying to be certain that no fragment remained. She looked about for a sink or a pump, because surely the dwarfs had some place to wash up before they broke for meals. She was just about ready to give up, when she spied a water cooler by the mine entrance. Thankfully, she put her hand under the spout and let the icy liquid course over it. She was looking around for a towel, when an out-of-breath Belle came running headlong into the mine.

"Belle?" Emma caught her by the shoulders when she would have stumbled. "Are you all right? What's happened?"

The other woman took a moment to catch her breath. "I have to talk to you," she panted. "And Rumple. And, well, everyone. I know what Zelena's planning."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Some events and dialogue lifted from "Bleeding Through" (S3:Ep18).

 **Chapter Fourteen**

"Time travel?" Gold repeated skeptically. Then he shook his head, dismissing the notion. "No. Not possible."

"But the components—" Belle said, holding out the grimoire she'd brought with her.

"No," Gold shook his head again. "Time travel spells have been… written since the dawn of the Dark Arts, but never cast."

Emma frowned. "Why? Is it that they don't work or that they're too dangerous to cast?" Under the force of Gold's irritated stare, she lowered her eyes. "Because if they're too dangerous… if Zelena's arrogant enough, or crazy enough, then maybe she won't care." She shook her head. "Like nukes. Nobody wants a nuclear war, but all it takes is one loose cannon with a launch code and…"

"Changing the past would be a danger of comparable severity," Gold confirmed, "but it's the latter reason: in the thousands of years since the dawn of the Dark Arts, nobody has ever managed to create a working time travel spell. It can't be done."

"Can't be done?" Emma repeated. "Or hasn't been done yet? Because I don't think those two things are necessarily the same."

Gold snorted. "It takes your son's near death to get you to accept the existence of magic, and yet, you're prepared to believe in time travel with barely a struggle. Emma, even with magic, some things truly are impossible."

"Like a curse that can transport a kingdom from a fairy tale world to a land without magic?" Emma asked. "Or… what was it you were saying a few days ago about a raw beginner being able to repel an attack from one of your world's foremost magical practitioners—with no idea of what she was doing?"

"Most powerful practitioner of one particular art," Gold corrected, sounding a bit miffed.

"You told me that you would have said _that_ was impossible, if I hadn't done it," Emma pointed out. "Well, I did it. What if Zelena can do what she's planning, too?"

"She can't," Gold snapped. "The entire notion is preposterous. And if you'd spent any time actually studying magical theory, you'd know that. Assuming you're able to defeat her, I'll gladly provide that instruction to you in the future. For now, you're simply going to have to accept that, while I'm not infallible, I do have a far better notion than you do as to what is and is not possible in the realm of magic."

"I'm not sure that matters," Belle broke in. "Possible or not, Zelena thinks she knows how to make it work. Somehow, it involves the baby. And whether she's right or wrong, she still wants that child and who knows whether there'll be anything left of him or her after the spell is cast?"

Gold's anger vanished. "You have a point," he admitted in a more subdued tone.

"What do we do?" Emma asked, her own face several shades paler.

Gold sighed. "You'd… best leave that with me," he said, gesturing to the grimoire. "Photograph the necessary pages to show the others. I'll… see if I can divine anything more. Though if she's attempting to create a new spell, you realize that I won't find it in here. At best, I'll find elements."

"It'll still be better than what we've got now," Belle said.

Gold shook his head. "I wouldn't get your hopes up too high. I truly believe that this will prove to be an exercise in futility. Even knowing Zelena's plans for the infant isn't particularly helpful. We knew the child was in danger before. Now, we've confirmed it. Knowing what spell she intends to cast hasn't changed anything."

"Well, don't let my skepticism rub off on you too much," Emma cautioned. "I don't know much about how magic works, but if belief is so important and you believe it's impossible, then…" She looked away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Gold said. "On that point—and that point only—you're quite correct." He frowned. "I wonder whether your defense against Cora was effective only because you truly had no idea how impossible it should have been."

Emma blinked. "So… what? You want me to go over that spell book with you?"

Gold chortled. "Only if you can read Old Gnomic, dearie. No, you and Belle had best alert the others. And Emma… while you should take care not to overdo, if you know that the dwarfs will be spending part of the day elsewhere—as was the case this afternoon—you might want to stop by earlier. We can fit in two lessons in a day, provided they're properly spaced."

"Got it." She nudged the other woman. "Come on, Belle. I'll drive you back to town."

* * *

"We should ask your parents to meet us at Regina's," Belle said, as they got into the Beetle. "And you mentioned that Hook was there earlier, as well?"

Emma nodded. "Did anything… happen while I was away?" she asked, remembering something.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean," Emma said, as she pulled out her phone and started texting, "that for as long as I've known him, Hook's been trying to make a move on me. When he came to get me in New York," she huffed, "he actually tried kissing me, thinking that it would restore my memories."

"True Love's Kiss," Belle replied, with a slight snort.

"Yeah, well. He thought it was worth a shot." She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I admit he's got a certain amount of charm. Under the right circumstances, he can actually," she smiled, "be kind of… sweet." She rolled her eyes again. "And then, he'll gaze at me and spout something like, 'You look a bit chilly, love. Want to use me as a blanket?'"

Belle winced. "You must be exaggerating."

"Nope. He didn't check a book on pickup lines out of the library before everyone got sent back to the Enchanted Forest, did he?"

"The only time I know that he was ever in the library," Belle replied, "was when he trapped me in the elevator, knowing I'd call Rumple away from the shop, so that one of his people could steal Baelfire's cloak."

"Oh, sheesh." Emma shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's all right," Belle said, smiling a bit. "He's been perfectly decent to me this time out. I… don't know that I've fully forgiven him, but I'm willing to give him another chance."

A couple of minutes passed in silence, before Emma spoke again. "Anyway, that was before Gold and I left Storybrooke. Since we got back, though, I almost think he's been avoiding me." Her phone pinged with a text notification and she opened it. "Huh," she said, surprised. "It's from David. Mary Margaret's still at Regina's. I know when I left, she was going to hang around for a bit, but I thought she'd have gone by now. At any rate, David's going to pick up Hook and meet us there."

Belle nodded. She didn't speak while Emma turned her key in the ignition, not until the mine was behind them and they were back on the main road. When she did, her voice was hesitant. "Did… Rumple say anything to you about what Zelena did to him? I tried to talk to him about it last night, but he said he didn't want to discuss it."

Emma kept her eyes on the road. "Not much," she said, thinking. "I've seen a few things and guessed a few others, enough to have some idea of what he's gone through, but I probably don't know the half of it."

"Tell me?"

Emma sighed. "The only thing he admitted to me, apart from Zelena having his dagger, was that she wasn't giving him enough food. But… when I found him in the woods, he was wearing a suit that probably hadn't been washed in months." She heard Belle's sharp intake of breath. "I know. And… we both know that if Zelena had the dagger, she didn't need the cage. Not when she could have commanded him to stay in one room and not try to escape."

"But she wanted to hurt him," Belle said, her voice tight with anger.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I—"

"Why?" Belle repeated more loudly. "Why would she want to torture him? I…" She took several deep breaths and struggled for control. "I'm sorry. I've spent… too much of my own life locked in a small room to forget what that's like. Even if all she'd done was confine him to that cage, it was too much."

"I know."

"I'm not just saying this because I love him. I wouldn't wish it on…" She stopped. "All right. I _would_ wish it on Zelena. But I think I'd still let her change her clothes every couple of days."

Emma snickered. "Thanks," she said softly.

Belle blinked. "For what?"

"Letting me know that I'm not the only supposedly good person in this town to have… unheroic thoughts about what to do with Zelena."

"Oh, trust me, you're not." Then hastily, "Not that either of us would actually act on them, of course."

"Of course not," Emma agreed. "But… we can dream."

* * *

As soon as they walked into Regina's study, Emma thought they'd walked into a nightmare. Her mother was lying back in a chair, seemingly unconscious, while Regina, strain evident on her face, was pulling something out of her. Or perhaps, someone. The shape was that of a woman, her face obscured by a hooded cloak, but it appeared to be composed of an eerie white light. As they watched, transfixed, Regina yanked it loose and forced it toward the ceiling, where a portal had suddenly opened. The figure seemed to be struggling to stay, but the pull from the portal was inexorable. As Emma watched, it drew her in. A moment later, both the ghostly woman and the portal were gone.

"What the hell was that?" Emma gasped, as David flew to his wife's side.

"Cora!" Regina exclaimed, as she hurried to Mary Margaret. "Is she okay?" she demanded.

"Mary Margaret," David bent over her. "Can you hear me?"

Mary Margaret's eyes were still closed and it was hard to tell whether she was moving or whether it was just David gently shaking her awake. "It was Cora," she said in a whisper scarcely louder than a breath. "Not what we thought. She was… trying to communicate."

"She was?" Regina asked in a tone that held no hint of the stridency that might have been there only a year ago. "What'd she say?"

Mary Margaret strained to speak. "Leopold," she said. "My mother… my mother…"

"Shh," David soothed. "Mary Margaret, relax."

"She's not making sense," Emma said, forcing herself to stay calm. "We need to call a doctor."

"If she knows something that could help us—" Regina started to protest.

"Regina," David snapped, cutting her off, "it's going to have to wait."

"It can't wait!" Regina shot back. "If we want to stop Zelena, we have to know what the hell she's doing and why!"

"I think," Belle spoke for the first time, "that I can help with half of that. She's planning on going back. Back in time."

* * *

Despite some initial skepticism, Regina was more easily won over to the idea than Gold had been—something for which Emma was grateful. As the former queen began examining the pages Belle had photographed, David spoke up.

"Why does she want to go back in time? I mean, we have no idea what she's trying to accomplish."

"I do," Mary Margaret announced softly. Slowly, falteringly, she explained the knowledge that Cora had given her.

"Wait," Emma broke in. "I thought our family were the good guys."

Regina sighed. "Life is too messy for it to ever be that simple," she said.

"You're saying," David was piecing it together, "if it wasn't for Snow's mother, Cora would have kept Zelena."

"She would have been tutored by Rumpelstiltskin," Belle nodded.

"All if it weren't for this… Princess Eva." They'd almost forgotten that Hook was with them.

"That means…" Emma began.

Snow nodded. "Zelena is going back to kill my mother."

Regina gasped. "You'll never have been born."

Snow nodded again.

"And Zelena…" David said.

"…Will be the Dark One's curse-caster," Hook finished.

Emma shook her head. "I don't think so." She held up a hand. "No. No, I know that's what she expects will happen if she goes back, but," she glanced at Regina, "you remember what I told you the evening after the wake. Zelena tried get him to pick her once before—and he rejected her because she fell in love with him."

"Well, she doesn't love him now," Regina snapped. "Frankly, I'm surprised she ever did, but I suppose that there's no accounting for taste." She looked away in sudden realization. "No offense, Belle."

Belle shrugged. "I have no idea what you see in Robin Hood, personally. But that's not important, so long as _you_ do." Then her eyes widened. "Regina… you and Rumple weren't always at each other's throats, right? I mean, it couldn't have started off that way or you'd never have wanted to become his pupil."

Regina shook her head. "No, at first he was my ally against my mother. And for the first year or so, as I recall, things were fairly cordial. And then… things changed."

"Changed," David repeated. "Changed how?"

Regina sighed. "He became more impatient," she said slowly, thinking back. "Quicker to poke fun at me. Overbearing... a bully, even. By that time, he knew how to push my buttons, and he did." She looked at Belle. "What are you thinking?"

"Probably," Emma said, "the same thing that's just occurred to me. If, as Gold says, Zelena's magic was stronger than yours, he probably _would_ have used her to cast the Dark Curse, _if_ it hadn't meant that she'd have to rip out and crush his heart to cast it. He couldn't take the chance—no matter how remote—that you'd fall for him, too. So… he made sure you wouldn't."

"It does make a certain amount of sense," Regina admitted slowly. "Certainly, I never once contemplated using his heart for the curse."

"Because he met Zelena before he finished teaching you, discovered a potential problem and took steps to fix it. But if Zelena changes the past… then he won't have learned it and…"

"Except," Regina pointed out, "that going by what she's done since then, once again, it's doubtful she still has those feelings for him."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Hook commented. "Sometimes, love and hatred can run together to such a degree that it's hard to tell when one leaves off and the other one starts. She wants to cast a time-travel spell, so that she can go back and prevent Cora from giving her up. In that new timeline, presumably the Dark One will come to her to become her teacher." He shook his head. "If she hates him so much, then why would she believe this to be a desirable outcome?"

"In this hypothetical timeline, she'd try to supplant him, maybe?" David suggested.

"That might make sense for Zelena today," Belle said. "But should Zelena successfully alter the past, then when she meets Rumple and starts learning from him, she would still be a girl. She wouldn't be carrying the same... baggage."

"Plus, I don't think studying under Rumple again would _be_ her main reason for the spell," Regina said. "Zelena's made no bones about it: she wants the life I had. Rumpelstiltskin is only one part of that life. If Leopold had married Cora, Zelena would have grown up a princess."

"Would she have been, happy, though?" Snow asked. "She thinks it now, but… Cora," she smiled uneasily, "had a few issues."

"Issues that probably would have sent her looking for a solution along the same lines you found," David said, glancing at Regina.

"How might she feel," Hook asked with a knowing smile, "about someone who came in and offered her such a solution?" He sighed. "I suspect that at the heart of this scheme of hers is the notion that by fixing the past in her favor, she will indeed have _everything_ she believes was taken from her. Including, perhaps, the only person she ever loved." He shook his head. "Who, after all's said and done, may not have ever loved her in return. Rather than a happy ending, it's really a sad story, when you think about it."

"It's all supposition," David said, shaking his head. "I mean, I'm not saying it can't be right, but how can we be sure?"

"We can't," Regina sighed. "But take it from someone who loved her mother enough to want to exact vengeance for her death," here, she and Snow shared a guarded smile, "but still hated her enough to turn to Dark Magic to banish her to another realm…" She took another breath and let it out. "I think the pirate's right. And…. once a person forgets how to love properly, things can get," her voice caught, "…extremely messy when those feelings surface again after years of disuse."

The last thing Emma wanted to do was bring up more past history, but she needed to know. "You're still on our side?" she asked Regina. "Even though, if Zelena kills Eva, it'll mean my mother will never have been born?"

For a moment, anger flashed in the mayor's eyes. Then she composed herself. "Clearly, you haven't thought it through enough. If Snow White had never been born, then you will have never been born. Which means that Henry will have never been born."

"And on this different path, Regina," Snow said gently, "you might not be either."

"It's a good thing no one has ever succeeded with this time travel nonsense," Hook remarked.

"The baby," David exclaimed.

Hook blinked. "What?"

"That's why none have succeeded," David continued. "Some way, somehow, our baby is the key. Zelena went to a lot of effort to get close to our unborn child. That's what she's after."

Snow's voice was unnaturally calm. "What is she going to do with it?

David's placed his hands protectively on his wife's belly. "It doesn't matter. She's not going to get it. We're going to stop her. Since our baby's not born, she's stuck, and we have what we need Time."

For a moment, Snow smiled. Then she looked down self-consciously and her smile died. "Just not very much of it."


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Some dialogue borrowed and tweaked from S3;E19 (A Curious Thing).

 **Chapter 15**

Rumpelstiltskin's eyebrows shot up when he saw the two women standing before him. "So," he nodded to Regina, "she's convinced you of this fool notion, as well, I take it?"

Emma bristled, but if Regina was annoyed, her façade didn't crack. "Let's just say," she replied coolly as she placed a restraining hand on Emma's elbow, "that the information in that book, combined with a visit from my mother, make for a compelling case."

Gold blinked. "I thought," he looked to Emma, "you said that the ritual failed."

"You know that Mother always loved her grand entrances," Regina cut in. "And she came in when _she_ wanted."

"Indeed," Gold said, nodding slowly. "So, you were able to talk to her, after all."

Regina shook her head. "Not exactly. But she had a few things to tell Snow." She took a deep breath. "I think it's time we started acting as if what Zelena's planning were actually possible. Unless you're aware of another attempt that's involved…" she ticked off her fingers rapidly, "a brain, courage, a resilient heart, and a newborn infant that was a product of True Love. Tell me that a time-travel spell containing all four of those ingredients has been tried before and failed and we can all breathe more easily." She caught herself. " _Slightly_ more easily. I'm not forgetting that the baby is still at risk, but at least the timeline won't be."

Rumple sighed heavily. "Not to my knowledge," he admitted. He frowned. "How ever did you come to know of the power of True Love anyway? As I recall, it was you told Belle how to wield it."

"Maleficent," she replied with a faint smile.

"Ah, yes," Rumple brightened. "Her sleeping curse. I'd heard about how old Stefan used it to wake Briar Rose, but it hadn't occurred to me that its power might have other applications." His smile gave way to a troubled expression. "I'm still not convinced of her reasoning. True Love's kiss can break any curse, yes. When the curse-breaker is also the product of True Love," here he nodded at Emma, "its potential is magnified. But Zelena isn't preparing a curse."

Emma pressed her lips together tightly for a moment. She took a deep breath. "Regina… do you remember when you told me that… baby parts… were required ingredients in certain spells? Maybe we need to look at some of them and… and see whether any of them mention anything about the baby being a…"

"A product of True Love?" Gold finished. He gestured toward the stack of books piled neatly next to the camp cot. "You'll find an answer there if you'll find it anywhere." He noticed the expressions on both women's faces and shook his head. "I have done… many dark deeds over the years," he said softly. "I won't insult either of you by pretending otherwise. But I'll swear to you by whatever you choose that I have never cast a spell nor fashioned a magical item that required any vital part of any child."

"Define 'non-vital'," Emma replied, wondering if she really wanted to hear the answer.

Gold sighed. "A lock of hair. Nail parings. A first tooth. I once bargained for a newborn's caul, though I never had occasion to use it. I suppose it's still in my castle, if it didn't come over with the curse." He shook his head once more. "I can't very well expect you to believe me, but I am telling you the truth."

"And if I were to ask you to answer that question while I was holding your dagger?" Regina asked.

"Regina!" Emma hissed.

"It's the only way we can be sure!" Regina shot back.

Gold's eyes went flat. "My answer would still be the same. But it would come at a higher cost, dearie. Before you consider asking me under those circumstances, be certain you're willing to pay it."

The tension in the air was almost palpable. "You said," Emma's voice seemed to slice through it, "you'd swear on _anything_?" She took a deep breath. "Then…" she clenched and unclenched her fingers. She hated doing this. Especially when she already believed him. But she knew that her superpower wasn't completely infallible. And she'd been manipulated before. "Then," she continued, "for everyone's peace of mind," she took a breath and let it out. "Are you willing to swear on Ne—" she stopped. "On Baelfire's grave?"

Gold flinched at that. Then he closed his eyes and gave a slight nod. Emma whirled to face Regina. "Will that be enough?" she demanded.

Regina hesitated. "That would be acceptable," she conceded.

"Very well," Gold said. "On Baelfire's grave, I swear it. I have never used a vital part of any infant or child, nor the infant or child itself, as an ingredient in any magical working." His voice was ragged as he finished. "Are you both satisfied?"

"I am," Emma replied. Regina nodded.

"Splendid," Gold snapped. "Then while I attempt to coach Ms Swan further," he gestured once more toward the pile of magical tomes, "perhaps you can make yourself useful, your majesty, and start reading?"

He tapped his cane once on the ground for emphasis. "The bulbs are still where you left them earlier," he remarked. "Let's see whether you've retained anything from our earlier session."

As Emma reached into herself and sought her magic, she tried not to notice that Gold's knuckles were white around the handle of his cane.

* * *

By the time the session ended, Emma had succeeded in destroying two dozen flood lights. By the time she'd reached the last six, she had not only shattered the bulbs, but reduced the blast radius by nearly three quarters.

"Impressive," Regina said, startling Emma for two reasons: she hadn't realized that the mayor had put aside the spell books to observe, and she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times that Regina had praised her directly.

Gold was charier. "For her second lesson, yes," he replied. "There's quite a ways to go, yet."

When Emma shot him an irritated look, he continued, "You still need to narrow your focus. You're lobbing tennis balls, when you want to be hurling darts. Of course," his lips twitched, "if you're giving up on the idea of taking your target alive…"

"No." Emma was firm.

Gold sighed in mock disappointment. "Then you're looking for tight, focused strikes. And that's not as easy. Shooting to wound is no easier with magic than it is with a gun."

"But you believe I can," Emma stated.

"What I believe won't matter when it's time," Gold reminded her. "It'll be what _you_ believe, dearie. But I wouldn't waste my time teaching you if I didn't think you were capable." He regarded her seriously. "You can take that as a simple statement of fact, or as a less-than-subtle attempt to build your confidence, as you like. You've demonstrated several times over that you have the raw potential. It's now a matter of refining it. And, as time is of the essence, we're channeling your gifts toward areas where you're already something of an expert, like darts. Please, no false modesty," he added sharply, as she started shaking her head. "I've watched you throw. If your skill at archery were on a similar level, you'd rival your mother, back in her bandit days."

"How come you're being so nice to _her_?" Regina demanded. There was the faintest hint of banter under her snark. "You weren't anywhere near as pleasant when you were teaching _me_."

Gold sighed. "Because, your majesty, it requires Light Magic to defeat your sister. While negative emotions are required to unlock one's gift, should Emma dwell too long in a place of anger and resentment at this stage in her training, it may not remain Light Magic for long. If I were looking for her to cast a Dark Curse," he shrugged elaborately, "I'd use a different approach."

Regina made a disgusted sound. "I'm about ready to head back," she said. "Mind if I borrow a couple more of those volumes?" she gestured toward the spell books. "I'll look them over at home."

Rumple spread his hands in a 'be my guest' gesture.

Emma hesitated. "You go ahead," she said, after a moment. "I'll catch up."

"If I'd known you were going to stay after class," Regina sighed, "I would have come in my own car. Don't be long."

"I won't."

She waited until she was sure that Regina was out of earshot before she spoke. "Um… about before. I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

Gold waved her to silence. "I have a certain well-deserved reputation," he pointed out. "I can hardly fault either of you for suspecting me. And we did need to get the accusation out of the way quickly; I doubt you would have been in the proper mindset with those thoughts weighing on you."

Emma blinked. "That's the only part that matters? That I might not have been able to concentrate if I thought you'd—"

Gold looked surprised, though he tried to cover it with a snort. "Do you imagine that I'm unaccustomed to having people assume the worst of me? Most of the time, it's not even undeserved."

Emma winced as his words struck a familiar chord in her memories…

* * *

 _Emma wasn't sure when she'd started stealing. It had been little things. A cookie for her lunch; the Baxters were quick to remind her that the money the government reimbursed them to look after her didn't cover 'extras'. And when Candie Phillips had brought in her box of 64 crayons with a built-in sharpener, Emma just_ knew _she wouldn't miss one of them. How many blues and purples did one person need, anyway? And when the_ Sword and the Stone _was playing at the movies, she'd waited until a crowd of kids roughly her age showed up for some birthday party and sneaked in among them. Once past the ticket-taker, she'd quickly moved off and found herself a seat in a nearly-empty row at the back. Sure, she knew it was wrong. Just like she knew it was wrong that her parents had abandoned her by the side of some highway. And just like she knew it was wrong that the only time people seemed to notice her was when she was bad. Lately, she'd been being bad a lot._

 _It had still been a shock, when she'd been caught. It had been over an exercise notebook—a stupid, dull notebook with a plain green cover and ruled pages. She'd thought about taking one with funky designs and a picture of some boy band she didn't know (the lead singer had looked cute), but decided against it. It would have attracted too much attention. So, it had been a boring, old, 70-page Mead notebook that had done her in. The store manager had called Mrs. Baxter, who'd been furious when she'd come to get her._

 _Emma hadn't minded having to apologize. She hadn't even cared about being banned from the store; she didn't think she'd ever want to go back there anyway. But from that point on, Mrs. Baxter had kept an eye on the cookies. And when she and Emma had run into Candie Phillips's mother at the dry cleaners a few days later, Emma had had no choice but to stand there and listen, while Mrs. Baxter related every detail of her 'rotten week'—including having to pick Emma up from the drugstore after getting the call from the manager. And a few days later, when the supply teacher had divided them into groups to work on their art projects and Emma had pulled out the midnight blue crayon (it had been over a month and she was sure that Candie would have forgotten it by now), Candie had snatched it back and called her a thief in front of the whole class._

 _"…And that's nothing! My mom heard from her foster mom that she robbed a Walgreens!" The teacher had tried to quiet the class down, but she wasn't the regular teacher and the class wasn't listening. And then, with classic timing, at that precise moment, they'd all heard a siren in the street outside. It might have been an ambulance, or a fire truck, but Ron Dunbar had turned to her and said, "You hear that, Emma? That's the cops. I bet you stole something else and they're coming for you!"_

 _Emma had tried to act tough, but until the last echo of the siren's screech had faded, deep down, she hadn't been sure if Ron wasn't right._

 _It had been the first week of June. There'd been three more weeks to summer vacation. And during those three weeks, all someone had to say was, "Hey, my pencil was just here!" or "I know I had five dollars in my pocket!" and Emma could just feel every eye in the room turn to her._

 _The final straw had been back at the Baxters, when Emma had caught Justine—another slightly-younger foster kid living there—taking ten dollars out of Mrs. Baxter's purse. Emma hadn't wanted to confront her. She knew that she was on shaky ground, telling another kid that stealing was wrong. Really, she'd just wanted to spare Justine the sort of treatment that_ she'd _been getting. So, she'd followed Justine back to her room to see where she was hiding the money. And then, when Justine went out again, Emma had gone to retrieve and return the bill. Mr. Baxter had caught her trying to put it back in the wallet._

 _They hadn't listened. Justine hadn't spoken up. It felt like no more than a minute—though it must have been a few hours—before she'd found herself in the back of a social worker's car, holding fast to the handle of her suitcase and trying not to cry. At least, she'd consoled herself, she was going to a new home and a new school, where nobody would know about the last few weeks._

 _Except that as it turned out, Ron Dunbar moved over the summer. When Emma started school in September, he was in her class. And even though Emma was resolved to make a fresh start, when she saw Ron whispering to some of the other kids, when she saw friendly faces shutter closed, she knew that there was no point in hoping for second chances._

 _The only thing she had to look forward to was the knowledge that her foster placements never lasted long. Sure enough, she'd been in another new school before Christmas._

* * *

The memory flashed through her mind as she regarded Gold. She knew what those months had been like: knowing that she'd messed up big-time, understanding that there were consequences, going back and forth between admitting that she deserved them and wondering if, maybe, some people weren't going a bit overboard. And after a while…

… _After a while, it was just easier to keep my walls up, because I never knew when I'd run into someone who knew about my past._

Emma closed her eyes. She knew a few of the things Gold had done. They'd been a bit more serious than shoplifting and possession of stolen property. In fact, they'd been bad enough that, as much as she hated to acknowledge it, Gold's word _wouldn't_ have been enough. She _had_ needed his oath that he hadn't cast any spells involving babies. And now… she found herself wondering if her only reasons for being willing to overlook his past were because she didn't know _all_ of it, and because he hadn't done much to her personally. Neither excuse sat well with her. Either she was deliberately choosing to be ignorant, or she was being criminally self-centered.

And yet, she didn't feel the same ambivalence about Regina.

Still…

She took a deep breath. "I'm not fooling myself," she admitted. "I know some of what you've done in the past and I'm probably better off not knowing the rest. But… here's the thing: since the Dark Curse broke—the first Dark Curse, I mean—you've done other stuff. You helped Henry get past his nightmares. When my mother and I were trapped in the Enchanted Forest, you gave us a way to defeat Cora. You guided us to Neverland, even though you were sure you were going to your death. I can keep going with more examples until I get us back to the present, but what it comes down to is…" Why were her hands sweating? "Look," she said, staring at the ground, "I'm not stupid. I know that you've usually got your own reasons for choosing to help us, but whatever your motives, you've helped us a _lot_. And without that help, especially the help you're giving me now… we… _I_ don't think I'd have a chance. I just… think it's time I admitted that it's thanks to you that I do. And that it's past time I gave you one, too," she added at a rush.

She worried that the last bit had sounded patronizing. She'd been on the receiving end of some of that, as well. The whole, 'I'm big enough to forgive you and you should be grateful,' attitude that always made her want to get away in a hurry (while slipping some knickknack or other into her purse or pocket on her way out the door). "And," she added, lifting her eyes to his once more, "thanked you. For what you did in Neverland. And after."

His eyes widened and he flinched. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. "You… you're quite welcome," he managed finally with a faint smile. "Well…" he said, making an effort to compose himself almost achieving it, "I expect Regina must be at your car already, debating whether to remain there waiting for you, or walk back here and see what's taking so long. You'd best be on your way."

"Yeah, while you and Regina try to make sense out of those spell books, I'll work on the Oz novels. Uh… you want anything special for supper tomorrow?"

Gold shrugged. "Surprise me." Then, more softly, "it would appear that's fast becoming your specialty."

She matched his hesitant smile with one of her own.

* * *

Emma had to admit that finding things to keep Henry occupied was proving a challenge. Before Regina had altered both their memories and sent them over the town line, Henry had found plenty to do in Storybrooke. He'd lived there all his life, after all. He'd had his castle and the arcade, to say nothing of walks in the woods surrounding the town. And, on top of that, there had been school, hot chocolate with cinnamon at Granny's, and browsing the comics at Clark's pharmacy. Simple pleasures, perhaps, but he hadn't known of anything different. Now… in addition to the false memories that Regina had implanted, he had a year of real memories of living in Manhattan.

Emma sighed. They'd both been excited when they'd moved there. _"Kid,"_ she remembered telling him, the day she'd signed the lease on the new apartment, _"I read once that if you go to New York for a week, you'll see everything you want to see. If you go there for a month, you'll see some of the things you want to see. But if you go there to live, you'll never see anything you want to see. Then again… don't believe everything you read!"_

He hadn't. For a while, they'd set aside time each weekend to do something different. The Empire State Building, the Intrepid Sea, Air, and Space Museum, the Sony Wonder Technology Lab… By the time homework and bail-bonding interfered, they'd both found plenty places to go and things to do, both touristy and otherwise. Unfortunately—particularly since she couldn't tell Henry even half of what was really going on in town—after less than a week, Henry was starting to find Storybrooke boring.

"I like fishing," he'd admitted last night, "but that doesn't mean I want to go every day. It's the same with the marina. And I know that the longer I'm here, the further behind I'm going to get in school."

School would have been a perfect solution and a way of keeping Henry occupied for most of the day. Unfortunately, while the other kids would be strangers to Henry, he wouldn't exactly be a stranger to them. Sooner or later, probably sooner, someone was going to say something to him about his previous life. It was inevitable. And what excuse could she make then that would sound plausible?

"I'd tutor him myself," her mother had said apologetically. "I can't imagine that the grade seven curriculum in New York is that different from what it is here—and if it is, it shouldn't be too hard to find a syllabus online. But with the baby due anytime now and…"

"And Henry's a sharp kid and if he thinks you're hiding something, he's pretty good at ferreting it out. Plus," she muttered under her breath, "I think he may have inherited my superpower."

"Or…" Snow had started, "you know, Emma, I've been reading up on the heredity versus environment debate and…"

Belle had come up with a solution. "Just send him to me and he can study at the library. I think we have a number of textbooks in the reference section. Perhaps they aren't the newest, but I imagine most of the information is the same."

"I'm not sure I have the heart to tell you about Common Core," Emma murmured. At Belle's questioning look, she sighed. "Nothing. It's a good idea, if you don't mind."

"No, it'll be nice to have some company. It seems that since the library was closed for so long, people got used to not having one. It's still fairly empty most days." Belle smiled. "Of course, people do come in sometimes. If Henry gets tired of studying, perhaps I can find some other things for him to do."

Emma grinned back. "Regina and Hook are coming by after breakfast tomorrow to do some brainstorming. I thought you might want to join us, but if you'd rather keep an eye on Henry…?"

Belle considered. "I'm best when it comes to research. For that, the library's definitely the right place. Especially since I have some of Rumple's books with me in the back room. And as long as I'm there, I don't mind having company. We can compare our findings later."

"All right, then," Emma agreed. "I'll send Henry to you for eight-thirty tomorrow morning. Oh." She frowned. "What time does the library open?"

"Tomorrow?" Belle asked, smiling. "I think I can arrange for it to open at eight…"

* * *

Henry had barely left the apartment the next morning when Regina entered, practically glowing.

"Regina," Snow exclaimed, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you looked smitten."

Regina snorted. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Haagen Daz is smitten with your stomach." A flush rose to her cheeks, but whether she was blushing at Snow's comment, or whether she'd realized just how flat her snark had fallen was impossible to tell. "Can we get started?" she asked brightly.

Emma sighed. "We were waiting for Hook."

"I don't have time to wait for the handless wonder. We need to figure out a way to defeat my sister."

"For once," David nodded, "I agree with Regina."

"Well, we know from Gold that light magic is the key."

"Yes," Regina nodded. "But that doesn't make sense. I don't mean that light magic can defeat her; that makes perfect sense. However, why on earth—or any other realm—would Zelena enact the Dark Curse to bring us back here, where _you_ can rejoin us, when—assuming Rumple was telling the truth, and," she sighed, "he probably was, all things considered—you pose the biggest threat to her scheme?"

Three faces frowned in agreement. Emma remembered something. "Gold and Belle are trying to trace Zelena's research and figure out what she's changed or added that makes her think that her spell will succeed. Maybe it's not only the baby. Maybe there's something special about this world that's needed to make it work."

Regina tilted her head quizzically. "I know so little about that branch of magic, I can't say you're wrong," she admitted. "But casting magic from a land without magic—or at least one where magic had to be… introduced. I'll grant you that it's unlikely that any of the great mages of the past ever contemplated such a thing, but that's hardly grounds for believing that casting the spell here is the key. Still, I suppose that there could be something here that makes it possible. But," she frowned, "there's something else I find to be far more troubling. And that's the same reason Rumple disqualified her as his curse-caster in the first place: in order to cast the Dark Curse, you have to give up the thing you love most. I get the feeling that there isn't much Zelena loves. Well," she snorted, "apart from, maybe, Rumple. And he's still here."

"Regina?" Emma had grown pale. "How is it that you were able to spare Henry? I mean…?"

Regina closed her eyes for a brief moment. "If Pan hadn't already cast the Curse, I wouldn't have been able to. But since he'd done so, those forces were already activated. They couldn't be stopped, but it was possible to redirect them. Setting the Curse in motion does require you to crush the heart of the thing you love most. But altering its course, thankfully, permits a less-drastic option." She turned away, though not before Emma saw a tear threatening to spill out of the mayor's eye. "If not, I think I might have resigned myself to being Pan's thrall," she added thickly.

"You know," Snow said, "Zelena might have needed to come here to cast her spell… but she wouldn't have to take our memories. Unless," she sat up straighter, "what if we learned something during the missing year? Something she doesn't want us to know? Maybe," she smiled, "the only way to keep us from interfering was to bring us back here and wipe our memories."

"Which means," David said in quick understanding, "that if we get our memories back, we may already have an edge toward beating her." He smiled. "We just need to break this curse."

Snow's smile widened. "Then, thank goodness we have a savior."

Emma blinked. "I… would love to, but there's one problem. Last time, all it took was me believing in magic and kissing Henry. Since I've been back, I've done both and… nothing."

Regina's eyes widened. "It's the belief," she said slowly. "Henry. He needs to believe again. In this new life, he doesn't. We have to get him to believe again!"

As Regina spoke, Emma felt her heart plunge to the depths of her stomach. It was petty. It was childish. But it was also the truth: if Henry's memories were restored, he wouldn't want to leave Storybrooke when this was over. And if she tried to push things, she had the feeling that she'd find most of the town ranged against her. Regina was to be expected; she'd thought Henry lost to her forever. There was no way she was going to give up her son without a fight—and Henry _was_ as much her son as he was Emma's. In some ways, perhaps even more. And, Emma reflected, her parents would fight her on this, too. Hell, if she made her intentions known, half the town would probably be lining up to talk her out of it (and the other half would be blockading the road out of town).

And with Neal dead… was it fair for her to take Gold's grandson away, too?

She could tell herself that it wouldn't be forever. They'd come back for visits. So long as her bail-bonding permitted it. And Henry wouldn't miss school. And there weren't any other things going on…

Who was she kidding? They had a life in New York. A _good_ life. Without magic or curses or… or everyone depending on her to set things right when she couldn't even set the DVR to record in advance. She loved the people in Storybrooke, but she didn't love constantly jumping from crisis to crisis, or journeying to other realms, or fighting ogres. Or witches. Or teenaged curse-casters who looked young enough to be their sons' grandsons.

New York was hectic, but it was normal. And as soon as she'd dealt with Zelena, they were going back there, no matter what anyone—including Henry—might say.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: An obvious nod to JRR Tolkien and a less-obvious one to Dragonlance in this chapter. Ken Follet's _Age of Eternity_ topped the NYT Bestseller list in October 2014. Some dialogue taken from S3;E19 (A Curious Thing).

 **Chapter 16**

Belle pushed aside the battered leather volume with an audible sigh. Five books later, she was no closer to unraveling Zelena's theories than she'd been when she'd started. This sixth volume wasn't a spell book, precisely, but an honest accounting of magical experiments. Mostly dead ends and wrong theories. Such tomes were hard to come by, particularly those that pertained to Dark Magic. Few magical practitioners were comfortable recording their failings. Those that were seldom took the trouble to bind those records into a book that others might pick up. Doing so required a certain degree of humility—a trait seldom found in those who embraced Darkness. However, Belle had a strong feeling that, for Zelena to think that she could craft a working time-travel spell, she would have had to have studied the failures of her predecessors to see where they'd gone wrong. The tome before her, unfortunately, was not written in any language she recognized.

Uncharacteristically, Belle actually scowled at the musty book. As a child, she'd found foreign languages to be a source of frustration. She'd acquired a passable understanding of five of the six most commonly spoken in Avonlea and its surrounding lands (Ogrish had eluded her on all but the most rudimentary level)—as well the primary tongue spoken in the empire to the east. For nearly a year, she had struggled with Agraban; she'd been all of nine when the emissaries had come to Avonlea seeking a bride for the firstborn son of their sultan's younger brother. At the time, she hadn't seen the sense of the lessons. Most Agrabans today spoke the common vernacular. Her parents hadn't heeded her protests, telling her only that it never hurt to know what people were saying when they thought you couldn't understand. Those marriage negotiations had eventually fallen through and her Agraban studies, tacitly dropped. This book, however, was not written in any language she was even remotely familiar with—apart from the preface, which had been written in a formal style that had been common over a century earlier, by an anonymous scribe, who stated only that the volume in her hands represented the collected experimentations of Fistandantilus, his successes and his failures. The scribe noted that he was penning those words nearly four centuries after this Fistandantilus was said to have died.

Henry looked up from a math text. "Can I help with something?"

Belle shook her head. "Not really," she admitted. Then, thinking that it might help to talk it out, she sighed again and carried the book over to his table. "We've… uh… recently acquired some rare books. Ancient," she embellished, "quite valuable, and… not written in English. I'm trying to see if I can make any sort of headway with this one." As she spoke, she rubbed the back of her neck absently. The thong on which the concealment charm hung was chafing a bit. She showed him the page. "I don't suppose this means anything to you, does it?"

Henry looked with interest at the volume she held open. "What language is it?" he asked after a moment. "It looks kind of…" He raised his eyebrows. "Have you got a copy of _The Hobbit_?"

Belle's eyes widened. "We should," she said dubiously. "Wait here. Uh… don't touch those pages. They're fairly brittle." She returned a few minutes later with a slightly dog-eared paperback. "Tolkien, right?"

Henry blinked. "Um… yeah," he said, looking astounded that she had to ask. He flipped through the pages rapidly. "Here," he said triumphantly, pointing to a map. A moment later, his face fell. "It's not the same, is it?" he asked, showing the map to Belle. "I did a project on Tolkien last year," he explained. "When he wrote _The Hobbit_ , he used Old English runes— _here_ ," he stabbed his finger on the page, "to stand in for Dwarven writing. It… kind of looks a little like the language in your book, but not quite."

"I can see that," Belle murmured. It didn't look like any Dwarf writing _she_ knew but, of course, the dwarfs in this book were fictional. Why shouldn't their language be, as well? Henry had a point, though. The angular symbols were similar—but not identical—to the writing on the open pages.

"Thanks anyway," she smiled. A thought occurred to her. "Henry? Do you know of any other languages that use runes?"

Henry grinned. "Real or invented?"

It was on the tip of Belle's tongue to say 'real', of course, but a fleeting thought made her hesitate. Once she'd adjusted to this new world, she'd been first shocked and later amused to discover how much of her own world's history was known—albeit distorted—in this realm. And it wasn't just true for her, nor for the other former inhabitants of the lands of the Enchanted Forest. She thought about Dr. Whale and Jefferson. Obviously, somehow, some authors in this world were able to… touch other realms. Perhaps fleetingly. Perhaps with questionable accuracy. Perhaps only in half-forgotten dreams, which they later embellished with their own ideas to fill in the gaps—she wasn't at all clear on the mechanics, though she had to acknowledge the supporting evidence. But… if stories could cross realms, _then why not languages?_ "Both," she replied. Then she shrugged. "Maybe some of those invented alphabets are based on older languages. Perhaps this," she gestured toward the book, "might be one of them."

"Okay," Henry nodded. "Runes were mostly used in old Germanic languages. So… Old English, German, Norse—I forget if that's the same as Scandinavian or if those are two separate languages… Maybe some others. And I know that when Tolkien wrote _Lord of the Rings_ he'd moved away from the Old English runes and gone on to invent new ones." He hesitated. "Or… wait. I forget. I know he invented languages, but I'm not sure if he invented a runic alphabet or used one that already existed. When I did my project I was really just focusing on _The Hobbit_ , but I remember that some of the things I read mentioned _Lord of the Rings_ , too. I sort of blipped over that bit, though. Sorry."

Belle laughed. "Don't be sorry!" she exclaimed, closing the book carefully and lifting it up as she rose from the table. "I think you've given me a whole new direction to try."

"Oh," Henry grinned in relief. "Great. Uh… before you do," he sighed, "do you know how to calculate the surface area of mixed shapes?" His smile turned pained as he motioned to the geometry lesson before him. "I think I'm kind of stuck."

* * *

Regina was still working on a solution to their current problem. "How did you believe?" she asked Emma.

Emma blinked. "The… book. The storybook," she said instantly.

Regina nodded, understanding and excitement dawning in her eyes. "That's what started Henry on his original path, _and_ what got you to believe! It's the key! In him believing, in him remembering!" Her smile faded. "Remembering everything," she added.

Emma shook her head. "That's not necessarily a good thing," she pointed out. He's been through a lot of tough stuff." She saw Regina's face darken for a moment and was about to add that she'd been thinking of Pan, but the moment passed and Regina's anger vanished.

"And some good stuff," the mayor smiled. She took another breath. "Either way, it's our best bet."

"She's right," Snow interjected.

Emma knew it. She took another breath. "Let's find it."

* * *

For once, Belle was glad that few patrons frequented the library on a regular basis. The books she needed were exactly where they were supposed to be on the shelf. It didn't look as though anyone had ever checked them out. She flipped through the first two books, feeling her frustration growing. She hoped that there'd be a large section of the text devoted to the runes; if it was just a page here and a page there, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. When she glanced at the table of contents in the third book, however, she felt her spirits lift. The fifth appendix was titled 'Writing and Spelling,' while the sixth was called 'The Languages and Peoples of the Third Age; On Translation'. It had to be one of those sections! Sure enough, when she flipped to the fifth appendix, she was greeted by row after row of runes, followed by their translations. Hopeful, she returned to her desk and the book of magical experiments. Yes! These runes were the same as the ones in the book! A moment later she fought an uncharacteristic urge to hurl the fragile volume across the room. The runic letters were identical… but the words they formed made no sense. Maybe it was another language that used the same alphabet. Or it was in code. Or…

 _Ahn Fistandantil, almalesh f'Estahr…_

Belle's eyes widened. She looked again at the runes in _The Return of the King_ and then then at the first page after the preface of the tome.

 _Ahn Fistandantil, almalesh f'Estahr…_

There was no doubt.

 _Ahn Fistandantil, almalesh f'Estahr…_

I, Fistandantilus, wizard in Istar…

I, Fistandantilus, wizard in Istar… The letters were runic, the style far more stilted than the current vernacular, but the language was _Agraban_! Belle smiled. Agraban writing in no way resembled the runes before her. The wizard had taken one language and combined it with a completely different alphabet! It made sense: if he was going to be writing down his failures, he wouldn't want them to be freely available to just _anyone_. And this was a fairly simple way to encode his notes. But she could read them! Not fluently and not well, but with enough time, she was sure that she'd be able to make some headway.

She spared a quick glance for Henry, still sitting at the table, though she noticed that he'd put aside the math book and had a small stack of manga before him. He had his nose deep inside one of the square paperback volumes. Assured that he was occupied, Belle took a deep breath, reached for a paper and pen, and threw herself into translating.

* * *

Regina set down her phone with a bemused expression. "Belle's in the middle of something," she said with a touch of annoyance. "If it's just the new Ken Follet novel, I'm going to be irritated."

"It wouldn't be," David protested. "Not at with what's at stake."

"Well, be that as it may," Regina huffed, "she's also keeping an eye on Henry. However," her tone softened, "since Henry's wearing that protection charm," she frowned. "He _is_ wearing it?" she asked.

Emma nodded. "He was at breakfast, anyway. I don't think he'd take it off."

"Good," Regina said, nodding back. "Then he should be fine on his own. At any rate, Belle said that she doesn't want to leave off what she's doing for long, but she'll meet us in front of Gold's shop in a half hour and let us in so we can see if the book turned up there." She sighed.

"You said the last place you saw it was Henry's room?" Snow asked.

"Yes," Regina confirmed, "but it's not there. It was swept away by the last curse." She shook her head. "When we arrived back here, the first thing I did was go up there." For a moment her usual reserve faltered. "Everything else was exactly as he'd left it. I could… almost imagine that he was back, too."

"And now he is," Snow and Regina exchanged smiles.

Emma hoped her discomfort wasn't showing. "Are you positive?" she asked. "Sorry," she added when everyone turned to look at her. "It's just that old habits die hard. Henry tried to keep the book hidden for a long time. Is it possible that he could have put it somewhere out of sight, not because he didn't trust you," she said quickly, "but just because he was used to not leaving it in the open?"

Regina's angry frown faded. "It would make sense," she agreed, "had Henry spent our last night in Storybrooke in his old room. But, if you'll recall," she sighed, "it was Pan. Henry—our Henry—was in Pandora's box. And once Gold released him and switched them back, Henry never had a chance to come back to the house. The book should have been on his bed, where Pan left it."

"Unless the Curse… moved it somehow," David said.

"Well, if it did," Snow sighed, "then Gold's shop is probably the best place to start. And if it's there, then with all of us looking, it shouldn't take too long to find."

"Right," Emma agreed, rising from her chair. "Let's get going."

* * *

Belle hadn't bothered to lock the library before leaving. The doors would still open from the inside, so it wouldn't have been as though Henry would have been trapped in there, but Belle hated to think that someone might finally decide to venture inside for the first time and, upon finding the building shut, shrug, go on their way, and decide not to try again. Besides, it was nearing lunchtime and she knew that some of Storybrooke's students did sometimes stop by to quickly check something out if their school library didn't have what they needed.

She smiled when she returned and saw two of her few regulars—one blonde, the other darkhaired—bending over one of the card catalog drawers. At some point—assuming that they were back in Storybrooke for good—Belle knew that they'd need to find the money in the budget to computerize the thing, but now was scarcely the time to think of such matters. "Nicholas! Ava! Are you finding everything all right?" she asked.

The girl looked up and nodded. "We have to report on some aspect of the Byzantine Empire," she explained. "I want to do something on everyday life, but I think I need to narrow it down a bit. Maybe what it was like to be a kid our age in Byzantium." She frowned. "Or is that still too broad?"

Belle grinned. This was more her speed. "Well, how long does your report need to be?" she asked, drawing closer to the catalog. Nicholas moved aside automatically.

"It's supposed to be a ten-minute presentation," Ava said. "But I know I talk fast when I'm nervous…"

"Ah," Belle nodded sagely. "Well…" The charm was chafing again. She suddenly remembered that there were a number of gold and silver chains at the shop. She should have thought to take one when she'd gone to unlock it for the others.

"Hey!" Nicholas exclaimed from somewhere behind her, and Belle debated with herself whether to remind him to be quiet. It probably didn't matter so much. It wasn't as though there was anyone else here besides them and… "Henry?! How come you haven't been in school?"

Startled, Henry set his book down and blinked in confusion. "How do you know my name?" he asked.

It was Nicholas's turn to be caught off-guard. "You mean you don't remember? I know the last year's a blank, but you can't have forgotten before!"

"Before?" Henry repeated. "Before… what?"

"Uh… Nicholas," Belle approached hurriedly. "I think you're mixing up this Henry with someone else."

Henry wasn't buying it. "Before what?" he repeated. "What's going on?"

Belle sighed. "What's going on is that you look a great deal like another boy who used to attend school here before he moved away. His name was Henry, too."

Henry glanced from Belle to Nicholas. Nicholas looked about as confused as Henry felt.

"Henry?" Ava strode quickly toward them, a warm smile on her face. "I heard a rumor you were back! Did you really move to New York? What was it like?"

Henry got up quickly so quickly that his wooden chair fell backwards with a loud thud. "Now, Henry…" Belle said, her palms raised in what was meant to be a calming gesture.

"No! Ever since I came here, you've been trying to keep me away from most of the town. It's like none of you want me to talk to anyone my own age or meet anyone outside of a very small group of grownups."

"Your mother explained—"

Henry backed away, fear and anger mingling with confusion on his face. "She didn't explain enough! There's something weird going on here and if you won't tell me what it is, I'll find out somewhere else!"

He raced for the door. Belle took several steps after him, but stopped. What was she supposed to do once she caught hold of him? He was already upset. How would he react if he believed that she was trying to keep him here against his will? While she was weighing her options, Henry pushed the heavy door open and dashed out into the street.

Belle regarded Nicholas and Ava for a long moment and shook her head.

"Ms French," Ava said, nervously twisting her fingers, "we didn't know… I mean, we thought…"

"I know," Belle sighed. "I'll deal with it. Uh… can you find what you need without my help? I need to make a call."

* * *

Emma closed her eyes for a moment and ran her hand across her forehead. "Thanks, Belle," she said. "No, it's not your fault. We'll deal with it. Anyway, the book doesn't seem to be here, so I guess we're going to head out, if you'd like to come by and lock up." She ended the call and looked at the others. "We've… got a situation."

After she was done relaying what Belle had told her, Regina sighed. "It appears we now have even more incentive to find the book. At this point, I doubt we could come up with a story Henry would find plausible and, the way he is right now, I don't think he could accept the truth without some sort of corroboration."

"At least he's still got the charm," David said. "He should be safe."

Hook cleared his throat. "That might not necessarily be true," he said. He'd only joined them a few minutes earlier and had been uncharacteristically subdued when he had. "Apologies, Swan. I…" He took a breath. "I fear I must confess I've been keeping something rather important from you. From all of you," he added.

"Hook?" Emma prompted when he paused a bit too long.

The pirate looked away, clearly somewhat embarrassed. "While you and the Dark One were out of town, Zelena…" he mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?" Emma demanded.

"She placed a curse on my lips," Hook admitted angrily. "The next time my lips touch yours, they'll take your magic. It seems," he continued at Emma's furious start, "that while she can't defeat your Light Magic directly, she can have another neutralize it. Knowing how irresistible you generally find me, I'd thought it wise to try to keep a wider berth between us. However, this morning, the witch took it on herself to waylay me and urge me to sweep you off your feet—normally an appealing prospect, I grant…"

"Hook…" David warned.

"She cautioned me," Hook said, all pretense at joking gone, "that should I fail to do so, she will begin exacting retribution on your loved ones, Swan. Starting with Henry."

Emma sucked in her breath. "I can't believe you tried to keep this from me!" she snapped.

"At the time, you were out of town," he reminded her. "Since then," he added in an undertone, "you've been spending most of your time in the mines."

"Okay," Snow cut in. "Enough. We know now. And if Henry's still wearing the charm, then he should be fine."

"It's not that simple," Regina said with a worried expression. "The charm causes Zelena to overlook him. What it doesn't do is extend that… aura of inconspicuousness to people with whom he interacts. If Zelena isn't actively looking for him, that's one thing; she'll walk right by him on the street and never notice. Same if she tries to scry for him; magical concealment is actually easier to pull off than the conventional kind. But if she's trying to find him… I didn't make charms for the rest of us. How many times can she spot us in the company of a… a nondescript boy, before she starts putting two and two together? It's not an invisibility spell; under these circumstances, it's not necessarily going to hold up."

She shook her head. "This probably sounds counter-intuitive," Regina continued, "but as matters stand now, until we find the book and get Henry remembering again, he might actually be safer on his own, not interacting with any of us. Alone, he's one more kid running around town. If he's seen talking to any of us—especially you, Emma—Zelena could home in on him."

"He's got to come back here eventually," Emma pointed out. "To my parents, I mean. Wait. Did I ever check out of Granny's?"

"Uh… we took care of that for you when you and Gold took off," David said.

"Hopefully, we'll have the book by the time Henry returns," Regina replied. "Once we do, once Henry remembers, we can catch him up on everything. And then, we'll have other options. A glamor spell, for example; I couldn't very well cast one over him without his noticing—and having a stranger's face gaze back at you from a mirror can be an unnerving experience, even when you know what to expect. At any rate," she reminded Emma, "your parents' apartment is already protected." She shook her head again. "I don't like this any better than you do. But I'm willing to bet that no matter what memories Henry has… if he knows something's being kept from him, he won't rest until he finds out what it is. If we go looking for him now, even if we find him and bring him back here, he'll be off looking for clues the minute our backs are turned."

"And I take it putting on a magic show won't help," Emma replied. Regina regarded her seriously.

"Would it have helped you to believe, had magic been present in Storybrooke when you first got here? Or would you have maintained that it was all smoke and mirrors?"

"I…" Emma flushed. August had shown her that he was reverting to wood and she hadn't been able to even process the visual. "You've got a point about me," she admitted. "But Henry… what was it Pan called him? The Truest Believer?"

"I wouldn't consider Pan to be especially trustworthy," Regina sniffed. "Besides that, 'truest believer' doesn't necessarily imply 'in magic'. I can assure you that I never encouraged him along those lines. And… until that storybook fell into his hands, he never showed much interest. Which is why I don't think we'll be able to convince him if we can't find it."

"Are we even sure that the book made the voyage back?" Hook asked.

"I'm not sure it ever left," Regina replied.

"Then," David said, "let's keep looking. "I mean, it can't just disappear." He stopped, frowning as the others exchanged worried looks. How much did they really know about the book's capabilities?

All at once, Snow smiled. "No," she said, "but it can just appear!" As all eyes turned to her, her smile broadened. "The first curse! It just showed up in my closet when I needed it most. Or, more accurately, when Henry needed it!"

"What do you mean?" Emma asked.

Snow took a breath. "He was going through a rough time. He was realizing he'd been given up. He didn't feel like he had a real family."

"He did," Regina protested.

"That may be," Snow said sadly, "but Regina, he wasn't feeling that way, not with you, not with anyone. He needed to believe in happy endings again. That was what the book gave him."

Regina mulled that over for a moment. "Well," she said heavily, "he needs to believe again. In fact, I think we all do."

The bell over the shop door rang as Belle walked in, looking as though she was braced for angry reactions. Emma shook her head and gave her an understanding smile. "We're just leaving," she murmured.

"Come on," Regina said. She glanced at Snow again. "What do you say we go check your closet?"

"You go," Hook said, as they trooped out. "I'll have a look about. Perhaps I'll spy that boy of yours." He held up his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "I won't engage him, but at least I might be able to note where he is so you can find him after you've located that book."

Emma nodded. "That's actually a good idea. Thanks."

"Swan, I…"

Emma sighed. "No, I get it. And it's not like I'd actually want to kiss you," she deadpanned. "I just…" she smiled self-consciously. "I guess Henry and I have a couple of things in common. We both hate being kept in the dark, for one. I'll get over it."

"Emma," Regina said, "I think that instead of coming back with us to your parents' apartment, you should head for the mines. Once Henry gets his memories back, he's going to have questions and we both might want to be on hand to answer them. At the same time," she continued, "I suspect that matters are going to come to a head with Zelena fairly rapidly, considering that she's started to put more pressure on Captain Emo, here." The queen smiled. "I think she's getting nervous. Which is all the more reason for you to acquire whatever magical instruction you can now. The baby could come at any time, and once it does, you'll need to be ready for Zelena."

Emma nodded, even as she felt a chill pass over her. "All right. I'll catch up with you later."

"We'll text you if we find the book," David said.

"Or if we hear from Henry," Snow added.

Despite her worry, Emma managed a smile. "Thanks."

* * *

Alone in the shop, Belle set about tidying up. It wasn't like the others had left things in complete disarray, but Rumple liked to have everything just so, and when he came back, he wouldn't be pleased to find items displaced or hanging askew. And he would be back; she knew it.

She rubbed her neck and winced when her fingers touched the irritated skin. If felt as though the leather thong had rubbed it raw. This wouldn't do. She needed to transfer the charm to a proper chain and she should probably change her blouse to something with a higher collar, as well, once she got back to her apartment. She moved over to one of the glass cases that held a jewellery display and selected a simple gold chain. That would do nicely. She scribbled a note for Rumple—he wouldn't mind her taking it, she knew, but he did keep careful track of inventory and he'd have enough on his mind when he came back.

Still, she hesitated before removing the charm. Regina had told her that as long as it was within about six inches of her person, it wouldn't matter if she was wearing it, holding it, or carrying it in her purse. Even so, it was with some trepidation that she slipped off the necklace.

Regina had tied the ends of the leather thong in a secure knot. After struggling with it for a minute or two, Belle was seriously contemplating cutting it, but she finally worked it open and pulled it free of the charm. She reached for the new chain and began to thread it through the metal loop affixed to the charm. She grimaced as she tried to fasten the chain behind her neck. It was always a bit tricky when she couldn't see what she was doing. Plus, her hair was getting in the way. "Oh…!" she muttered in annoyance when she accidentally closed the lobster clasp on empty air and the charm slid free and hit the floor. She sighed in relief when she saw it resting against the back wall. As she stooped to retrieve it, she had a nasty feeling that she wasn't alone. And then, she felt a sudden sharp pain in her chest, heard a low musical laugh, and knew nothing more...

* * *

Henry hadn't made the distance running team in middle school this year, but if the coach could see him now, she might reconsider. He didn't know where he was going, but he wanted to be away from the town, away from people who were lying to him and hiding things from him and talking over and around him.

He passed the last houses and found himself on an empty two-lane road with forest on both sides. As much as he wanted to be alone, and as much as he found it relaxing to be surrounded by nature, prudence won out. He didn't know the area and he didn't want to get lost. He knew that Maine was about 90 percent forested (he'd checked out of curiosity when they'd arrived), including over twelve million acres of it in the northern part of the state. He wasn't sure how far north Storybrooke was, but there sure were a lot of trees around. He stuck to the road, jogging at a steady pace.

After about twenty minutes, his face fell. Ahead of him was a green road sign that read "Leaving Storybrooke." Behind it was a bright orange line. And standing directly in front of the sign were Leroy and two of his brothers. (At least, Leroy had introduced them as his brothers yesterday. Henry didn't notice any resemblance.)

"Kid!" Leroy snapped coming forward to block his path. "Where do you think you're going?"

Henry slowed, but instead of stopping, he kept jogging in place. "I'm just out for a run," he snapped back. "What do you care?"

"I don't," Leroy retorted. "So long as you stay on this side of the line."

Normally, Henry probably would have listened, but he was still upset and the gruff little man was getting on his last nerve. "With all due respect," he said, "you're not the boss of me. I'm not going far." He moved to pass Leroy and keep going, but found his way blocked.

"Kid, trust me, you don't want to cross that line."

Henry wasn't sure whether Leroy was talking about challenging him or about the literal line on the asphalt, but he didn't much care. "Excuse me." He tried to move past again, but Leroy's brothers came forward to flank him, their expressions grim. He let out a long sigh. "Unbelievable," he said slowly. "Fine." He spun on his heel and started on the road back to town.

Henry looked back over his shoulder every few minutes, until he couldn't see the men or the sign. Then, assured that he was alone, he turned into the trees. "No offense, Leroy," he muttered, "but I don't want to go back to town, yet." He didn't go in too deep. Getting lost was still a concern, but he knew that so long as he stayed within sight of the road, he'd be able to find his way back. Sure enough, it wasn't long before he could see the sign and the men through the trees. Perfect. Now, if he was just quiet enough…

He was so intent on avoiding dead branches and other noisy places to step that he didn't realize he'd been spotted until someone bore him to the ground in a flying tackle. He managed a startled cry, before a hand clapped over his mouth. Henry looked up wide-eyed… directly into Leroy's furious face.

"Of all the stupid—!" Leroy growled in a low voice. "Listen to me, kid. These woods are _not_ safe. You can't be out this far from town. You…"

A triumphant screech split the air and Leroy's eyes grew wide. He lurched to his feet and hauled Henry after him. "TOO LATE!" he bellowed, taking hold of Henry's arm. "RUN!" One look over his shoulder was all it took to convince Henry to obey. Man and boy raced through the trees.

Behind them, the flying monkey pursued…


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Henry didn't know where Leroy was taking him. The two seemed to fly over rocks, leaves, and roots. Henry had the feeling that if he stumbled, Leroy would just keep moving, dragging him behind. He wasn't about to test that theory. There came a shriek from behind them, triggering a fresh burst of speed. A moment later, they heard branches crack and the shriek turned to a howl of pain. The flying monkey obviously couldn't navigate through the trees very well, but they were only slowing it down. It was still coming!

Abruptly, Leroy veered left and flung himself to the ground yanking Henry with him and they slid into a shallow depression. Wordlessly, Leroy gestured toward an enormous hollow tree. Henry glanced at him in horror. Maybe they could both fit inside, but once they did, they'd be sitting ducks for the monkey. Leroy gestured toward it emphatically. Then he released Henry's wrist and motioned to him to go first.

Henry obeyed, hoping that he wasn't making a serious mistake. And praying that if it was, it wouldn't be his last!

* * *

Gold listened to Emma's story without interruption until she was finished. Finally, he sighed. "If I were you, I should avoid being alone with the pirate at all costs until Zelena has been defeated," he said. As Emma started to say something, he held up a hand. "While there's no love lost between myself and the captain, that's beside the point. I know something of the nature of the curse that Zelena would have him cast. It will be triggered when his lips touch yours, for any reason. That reason need not be a kiss."

Emma frowned. "I don't understand."

"Don't you?" Gold smiled thinly. "I believe that you're familiar with emergency first aid for drowning victims?" His smile grew wider as comprehension dawned in Emma's eyes. "I see you take my meaning. Consider that this town boasts a significant amount of waterfront. Besides that, if memory serves, there are several dozen homes with outdoor swimming pools, to say nothing of those residents who maintain water tanks or wells." He nodded as he saw his words penetrate. "If Hook won't kiss you voluntarily, there are other ways to get the job done. If necessary, a sink or a bathtub could place him in the right sort of peril. Or even a puddle."

As soon as the expletive left her lips, Emma was grateful that Henry wasn't in the vicinity. She didn't kid herself about whether he knew those words, but she did her best not to use them in his presence and he showed her the same courtesy.

Gold's eyebrows shot up, but he only nodded once more. "For what it's worth, I agree with Regina. Matters _are_ coming to a head. And Zelena may be growing desperate." His expression turned troubled. "If she's told me anything about her plans or how I factored into them, it was either back in our land—and I've forgotten it, along with everything else in that year—or I couldn't retain the information in my earlier state. However, if my captivity and enslavement was intended for any purpose beyond giving her someone to gloat to," he smiled, "then your spiriting me away may have hurt her schemes more than we realized."

Emma smiled back. "We can hope."

"We can," Gold nodded. "But unless that hope is backed up by concrete action, it's unlikely that it will suffice. Now, while half of the dwarfs have elected to guard the town line against those foolish enough to think that the monkey threat is some falsehood cooked up to keep everyone penned here, I was able to prevail on the remaining three to secure a number of hooks to the walls and ceiling. Here." From the folding table, he picked up a number of pieces of yarn, ranging from roughly eight inches to two feet in length.

"What am I doing with these?" Emma asked, reaching for them.

"Use them to suspend the bulbs from the hooks," Gold directed. "It's time for you to work with smaller targets. Smaller non-stationary targets," he clarified. "When the battle commences, I'll not have you found wanting."

Emma's smile froze on her face when he mentioned the battle. She knew what was at stake. She had no intention of failing. But her hands were sweating as she hung up the first bulb.

Gold noticed, of course. "You're nervous."

"I'm _scared_ ," Emma corrected, with a rueful smile. "It's not like I don't know what's at stake."

"Indeed," Gold replied, but his expression was troubled. For a moment, Emma thought that he was beginning to doubt that she'd be able to take on Zelena after all. Then, almost hesitantly, he asked, "How does that work?"

"Sorry?"

He regarded her for a moment. Then he closed his eyes. "Pushing on. Despite your fear."

Emma hung another bulb. "Like I just said," she sighed, "it's not like I don't know what's at stake. But, hey. You know what that's like, too, right? I mean… Pan."

Gold shook his head. "That wasn't courage. That was accepting a destiny that had been ordained long before."

Emma tilted her head. "I'm… not sure there's a difference. Actually, I don't believe there is."

Gold snorted.

"No," Emma insisted. "I'm serious. I mean, a couple of years ago, August was trying to convince me to believe in magic _and_ convince me that I was destined to break the Dark Curse. I told him that if that was the case, the town was screwed," she added in an undertone.

Gold snorted again.

"Hey, I was scared," she grinned. "But thinking back," Emma continued slowly, "I don't think it was because everyone was depending on me. I mean, don't get me wrong, I didn't like that part. I'd pretty much built my life around _not_ having people depending on me for much. But, when you get right down to it, if you're a bail bondsperson it means that someone is depending on you to find the fugitives and bring them in. I guess… you could say, I didn't like having people depend on me, but it didn't scare me that they did; it was just something annoying I had to put up with. No, what scared me was that I thought I had a pretty good idea of who I was. And from the time that Henry showed up at my apartment in New York, as much as I didn't want to, I found myself questioning that. And every time something happened that should have shaken me up and started me believing, I backed away. Because," Emma took a deep breath. "Because believing that I was this… savior Henry said I was, would have meant believing that I was more than this unwanted kid who got herself into some trouble with the law, cleaned up her act, and managed to keep her head above water while she drifted from state to state and job to job." She sighed. "Maybe my life was crap, but it was familiar crap. Coming here—even before I broke the curse—meant taking on a… whole… boatload of _un_ familiar crap. It meant accepting that almost everything I knew about myself and about the way the world worked was either dead wrong or, at least, not as clear-cut as I'd thought. Now, _that_ terrified me."

"I understand," Gold said, nodding slowly. "Still… you managed."

"Did I have a choice?" Emma asked. She realized something then. "And underneath it all, not much has changed. I'm still scared. I'm still a drifter. I've just learned to hide it better." She crossed over to Gold's side of the town line. His head jerked up when she rested a hand on his shoulder. "Look, if you're defining having courage as not being afraid, I'm sorry for wasting your time. But if you want to think about it like pushing on _through_ fear—and I still think that's what you did with Pan—then… the best advice I can give you is… to remember Calais."

Gold frowned. "Calais?"

"The Wal-Mart." Emma hesitated. Gold wasn't comfortable discussing his weaknesses. Even now, she noted, he'd inquired about how she coped without once suggesting that he was looking for pointers on how to deal with his own fears. Still, she also noticed that he was hanging on her every word. "Like I said then, big box stores can be intimidating. But there are ways to minimize the effect."

"Noting the section markers in the lot," Gold said slowly.

"And figuring out where to meet if we got separated." Emma sighed. "Kind of like what you did in the motel, getting me to meditate, just so I'd calm down a bit and feel like I was doing _something_ to prepare. Even if it was something small. It made me feel like I was making a dent in it, you know? Breaking something that seems overwhelming down into something more manageable."

Gold nodded, pretty much confirming her guess. "You'd best go back to hanging those," he said haltingly, gesturing toward the lengths of yarn in her hand. His lips twitched though, as he added, "Let's see if we can make a larger dent, before you rejoin the others, shall we?"

Emma grinned back.

* * *

The hollow tree proved to be the entrance to an earthen hollow or burrow, perhaps ten feet by ten, with a ceiling about four feet high. "What is this place?" Henry gasped, as Leroy rolled a large rock across the opening. It didn't completely blot out the light, but it ensured that the flying monkey wouldn't be able to follow them inside.

Leroy didn't answer right away. Instead, Henry heard him scrabbling a bit on the ground. A moment later, he held up a small jug triumphantly. At least, in the light that remained, it looked like a jug. "Some time ago," he said, "I found this place and I used to come back here every now and again, when I wanted to drink and I didn't feel like waking up the next morning in a cell at the sheriff's station. Wasn't sure if I still had a stash." He held out the jug to Henry. "Want?"

"Uh… n-no thanks," Henry managed. "What was that thing?"

Leroy was silent for a long moment. "Trouble," he said finally.

"That's not an answer."

Leroy hesitated. "Well, I could tell you that it was a flying monkey, but," he sniffed, "you won't believe that, because you know they don't exist. I could tell you that it's all done with special effects and that was a test run for a haunted house attraction we're opening in a couple of weeks for Halloween, but," he sniffed again, "you won't believe that, because if it were, I wouldn't have run and it wouldn't have tracked us. So, you tell me, kid. What do you think it was?"

Henry didn't say anything for a moment. "Uh… about that drink…"

Leroy sighed. "Your mother would kill me. Ask me when you're older."

They heard something land on the ground with a muffled thud, and then the skittering sound of claws on rock.

"Shh!" Leroy hissed.

There was a second thud. And then there was a mighty crash of splintering wood. The light filtering in was suddenly brighter. There came a loud roar. And then two screams and a smell of burning wood and charcoal.

A blast of hot air whooshed into their hiding place, and with it a hint of charcoal and cooked fish. Henry felt like he was sticking his head in an oven. "If that's a forest fire out there," he whispered, "will we be okay?"

Leroy didn't answer.

And then, over the crackling of the branches, man and boy heard a loud flapping. It was slower than the wingbeats they'd heard earlier, slower, but more forceful. The crackling noise lessened. For several long minutes, the forest was nearly silent. Then something landed heavily. Slow ponderous footsteps advanced toward their position.

A moment later, both Henry and Leroy screamed and shrank back against the far wall of their earthen cave as a large yellow eye peered in on them.

They heard a deep throaty chuckle. The eye vanished. And then, something big and heavy knocked the boulder out of the opening.

And then there was silence.

Henry and Leroy looked at each other. "Wh-what just happened?" Henry asked.

Leroy stared at him wide-eyed. "Are you asking _me_?"

"Y-you think whatever that was is still out there?"

"You want to go find out?" Leroy demanded.

Henry frowned. "We can't stay here forever," he pointed out. "I don't hear those… things that were chasing us anymore."

"Yeah. Because something bigger chased them off so it could eat us in peace!"

"Then why didn't it reach in and grab us when it knocked away the rock?"

"How would I know?"

Henry sighed. "Hey. Hang on." He reached into his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"My phone," Henry explained. "It's got GPS." He sighed. "With any luck, Mom'll be so relieved I'm okay she'll forget to be mad I ran off. Wait." He frowned. "Do you think she'll believe me? About those monkeys? I mean, if you back me up?"

Leroy let out a long breath. "Yeah, kid. I'm pretty sure she will."

* * *

"We found it!" Snow exclaimed, holding the book aloft triumphantly. David and Regina flanked her on either side, their expressions showing similar elation as they walked down Main Street, toward Emma.

Emma glanced up and smiled, but she held up a warning finger as she continued her conversation, while leaning against the Beetle. "I'm on my way, Henry. I'll be there in a few minutes. It's going to be fine. Really." Her expression turned murderous as she ended the call.

"Henry went for a run near the town line," she announced. "The monkeys—"

"They didn't bite him?" David blurted.

"No," Emma replied. "Leroy was there. But… uh… let's just say that the book might still help Henry remember the past. And it might break the curse. But he doesn't need its help to believe in magic anymore."

"Wait," Snow said. "Is Leroy okay?"

Emma nodded. "As okay as he can be after… uh… you remember I mentioned that Gold and I got back here on a dragon?"

"Yes, you said he was going to be staying outside the boundary," Regina nodded, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, he might have been a little vague on where the boundary was," Emma admitted. "Or he decided not to let some line on a map determine whether he could lend a hand. Long story short, I… think it's safe to say that Henry now believes in flying monkeys. And probably dragons," she added.

"But they're both safe?" Snow asked.

Emma nodded again. "Shaken up, but all right. Elliott burned a few trees chasing off those monkeys, but it sounds like he was able to put out the flames before they did any serious damage. They're just… a bit nervous about venturing out in the open again in case another monkey patrol spots them."

"So, the woods by the town line?" David asked.

Emma nodded and motioned to her car.

Regina frowned. "We may all fit on the drive there, but it's going to be cramped on the return trip. Why not take two cars?"

Snow shrugged. "Sounds good to me. Emma, you and Regina go together. David and I will follow in one of the patrol cars. And if we see Hook, we can tell him where we're headed."

"Uh…" Emma remembered Gold's warning. "If we're picking him up on the way, it'd probably be better if he went in your car." As she explained what Gold had told her, the other three turned grim.

"If it comes to that," David said, "don't worry. You aren't the only person who knows rescue breathing."

"Right," Snow smiled. "And, while we may have missed your teenage years, I think we can still be overprotective parents enough to not leave you alone with your boyfriend." They turned and started walking toward the sheriff's station.

"He's not my—" Emma called after their retreating backs.

As Regina cleared her throat impatiently, Emma was sure she'd heard her mother giggle.

* * *

Rumpelstiltskin carried the plastic gallon jug back from the stream. He hadn't really needed it; it had been an excuse to check the sun's position and estimate the hour. It was difficult to keep track of the hours down here. He wondered what had happened to his wristwatch, whether it was waiting for him at his house or in the shop. Not that it would have done him much good: antique watches required winding and his would have surely run down by now.

Emma had said that she would be back after seven. That had to be something like three or four hours away. Thankfully, he had that with which to occupy his time. And enough non-perishable food to tide him over until she brought dinner.

Returning to his living quarters, he looked longingly at the portable loom. As much as his fingers itched to work it, he reminded himself that he had other work to do first. For all that Belle and Regina were puzzling over spell books without him, he was the best qualified to unravel whatever Zelena thought she was trying to accomplish. Besides, if by some miracle, Regina did manage to figure it out without him, she'd be crowing about it for years to come. She was insufferable enough already, without besting him at his own games, thank you very much. He reached for one of the grimoires with a sigh.

Familiar footfalls hurried toward him, crunching a bit on the sandy soil of the mine floor. "Rumple!" Belle shouted. It sounded like she was gasping for breath. "Rumple!" She came around the tunnel bend, "It's over!"

He wasn't sure what sank in first, her words… or the fact that she was holding his dagger out to him, hilt-first.

"It's over," she repeated, laughing. "Zelena's lost! You're free!" Her smile dropped. "But Emma was hurt. David was taking her to the hospital, but couldn't you…?"

He managed a nod and tried to look concerned, but he was certain that his elation was simply too strong to tamp down. "Of course, of course," he said quickly, as he walked toward Belle, one hand extended toward his dagger's hilt.

As he stepped over the spray-painted line, he noticed almost in passing that Belle had stopped and now stood waiting for him. Odd. She hadn't been reluctant to cross the line before…

Just as he was about to take hold of the dagger, Belle jerked it away and held it up at eye-level. As she did, Rumple felt his muscles lock into place, freezing him where he stood. "Belle!" he whispered in horror.

A musical laugh echoed faintly through the tunnel. And then, another woman, clad all in black, her red curls tumbling out of a severe bun, came smiling around the bend. "Well," she said brightly, "I have to admit that was easier than I expected."

"Zelena!" Rumple gasped. He wasn't sure what filled him with greater dread, her presence… or the heart she held in one hand.

"The dagger, if you please, Belle," Zelena requested. "Thank you." She smiled at Rumple.

"Did you have a good vacation? Ready to get back to work, now? Free from all distractions?" Her smile gave way to a worried frown. "Actually, come to think of it," she looked at the heart in her other hand and shook it slightly, as though weighing it, "there's still one distraction here." She beamed at him. "Why don't I remove it for you? Shall I?" Her hand contracted slightly around the heart. The color fled from Belle's face and she bent over gasping.

"NO!" Rumple exclaimed, straining in vain to leap forward. "Don't…!"

Zelena's eyebrows shot up in a mockery of dismay. "Don't? But Rumple, I thought you'd appreciate an opportunity to become more focused. After all, you left me in a real quandary, with so much left undone." She made a tutting noise. "So inconsiderate. So unfair. So, really… I'll be helping you concentrate." With a malicious smile, she tightened her hand again and Belle cried out.

"Z-Zelena." He knew she wanted this reaction from him. He knew, but didn't care. He'd lost Bae. He couldn't lose Belle. "Please…" Tears welled up in his eyes. "Please, I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Zelena's eyes widened. "But Rumple," she cooed, "you'll do that anyway…" she waved the dagger tauntingly and her sweet tone gave way to a hiss, "…so long as I hold this!"

He couldn't move. He could barely breathe. "What do you want from me?" he whispered.

Zelena regarded him for a moment. She actually seemed to be considering his question. Then she brightened once more. She slid the dagger into a sheath strapped to her leg and gestured at the ground before her. A small cloud appeared several inches above it and released a heavy rain, darkening a small patch, perhaps two feet by two feet, turning sandy soil to thick mud. Still smiling sweetly, Zelena banished the cloud with a gesture. Then, slowly, deliberately, she brought her boot down in the oozing mud with a loud squelch. "What do I want from you?" she repeated, a hint of steel entering her voice. "Truthfully, Rumple, I already have almost everything you could offer me." Her hand strayed to the dagger's hilt. "With this, I can command you to relinquish your fortune, your home, and your shop. Your vast power is at my disposal, as is your beautiful brain. You're bargaining from a position of absolute weakness." She laughed softly. "Aren't you lucky I'm in a good mood?" Her voice hardened. "Here's my price, then. From this point forward, whether I use the dagger or no, you work for me willingly. You obey my instructions to the letter. You give up any thought or hope of being rescued. And," in one swift motion, the dagger was out of its sheath and in her hand, "you remain within the town boundary until such time as I command you otherwise. Agree to that, and I'll let her live. I'll even return her heart—for so long as you obey me."

Rumple sucked his breath and nodded.

"I didn't hear you," Zelena coaxed. She glanced meaningfully at the heart and squeezed once more. Belle screamed.

"S-STOP! Please. You have my word," he choked out. "I'll do what you ask. I'll follow your commands to the letter. I won't attempt to escape, not on my own, not with assistance. And I'll remain here for as long as you command."

Zelena's smile grew wider. With a sudden, savage motion, she thrust the heart into Belle's chest. Belle doubled over, wheezing. When she straightened, she looked from Rumple to Zelena, horrified. "Tell the others," Zelena said with quiet menace. "There will be no rescue attempts. If there are, I'll continue taking hearts. And crushing them. Mmmm," she continued pensively. "You know, I think I've just come up with an idea for a game. Suppose I were to take back your heart and… oh, say, take another five or six from various townspeople chosen at random. And then," she said with mounting excitement, "I put them all in a bag, shook them about…" her smile dropped away, "and ordered the Dark One to reach in, pull one out, and crush it. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Belle's jaw dropped open in shock, but her eyes were smouldering with fury.

"No?" Zelena asked in mock consternation. The steel returned to her voice. "Then you'd best make sure you deliver the message to the others in such a way that they'll believe it. Go."

Belle took a shuddering breath and looked at Rumple with tears in her eyes. Then she turned to leave.

"Oh. Wait." Zelena called after her in a friendly fashion before she could take a step. "I almost forgot. I wanted to show you something."

She crooked a finger at Rumple, as though beckoning to a child. Or a dog. "Rumple," she said, returning the dagger to its sheath, "Kiss my boot."

Rumple seemed to shrink under her gaze. "Zelena," he pleaded, knowing it was futile, "please. Not in front of Belle."

Zelena's eyes opened very wide. "But you just gave your word that you'd obey my commands to the letter. Now," she wrenched her boot free of the saturated earth, taking a fair portion of mud with it, "Kiss. My. Boot."

"I will not stay and watch this!" Belle said furiously. She tried to turn around, but found herself rooted to the spot.

"Oh, but you will," Zelena purred. "I really want you to see this and understand. He's mine, now. With or without the dagger."

She tore her gaze from Belle to Rumple. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded shrilly. "Kiss my boot!"

Slowly, trembling, Rumple knelt down and obeyed. As tears coursed down his cheeks, Zelena giggled. She waved her hand negligently in Belle's direction. "Now, you may leave," she announced, releasing her.

With a sob, Belle ran off. Zelena smiled down at Rumple and held up the dagger once more. "Magic yourself back to your cage," she said softly. "Back to your spinning wheel. Think about your little vacation a bit more. Then imagine the price I'll exact from you for taking it." She bent gracefully down to his level. "I'll see you there in a bit."

He looked up at her, making no attempt to hide his loathing, as purple smoke surrounded him. As the scene before him dissolved, the last thing he heard was Zelena's laughter.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

He hadn't noticed the stench before, but it assaulted him full-force when he materialized in the cage. Clearly, Zelena hadn't even aired out the cellar, let alone changed the filthy straw bedding in his absence. At the foot of the spinning wheel, next to the basket of clean straw that she'd ordered him to save for his spinning—or he would have freshened the bedding himself—he saw the ceramic bowl with the remains of the last meal she'd brought him. Oatmeal. It had tasted half-rancid at the time. Over the course of the last few days, it had sprouted a thin rind of white mold, which was mottled with sickly green patches. With an angry cry, he kicked it away. It hit the bars of the cage with a muffled crack and bounced away. A small piece of pottery chipped off, but the bowl remained otherwise intact. Furiously, he moved toward it, meaning to fling it against the bars until it shattered, but he found himself unable to turn to face it.

Puzzlement overpowered his rage. Zelena hadn't ordered him to stand in one spot. What was going on here? He turned over her last orders. _Magic yourself back to your cage. Back to your…_ The spinning wheel. His back was to the spinning wheel. Intrigued, he tried stepping sideways, keeping the wheel behind him. He found that he could do so easily enough. But Zelena surely hadn't meant for her command to be interpreted this way. When she'd ordered him back to the wheel, she'd meant for him to spin.

He tried to turn around. Nothing. He frowned, remembering his conversation with Leonora that night on the beach. Easy enough to do. Zelena had ordered him to think about his 'vacation,' after all.

 _…on_ _Jessica Jones_ _, there's this character, Killgrave? He can command almost everyone. And there's this scene where he tells Jessica's best friend Trish to put a bullet in her head. Only Trish doesn't have a gun. So she's got the bullet and she's trying to ram it into her head until Jessica tells her to open her mouth. And then she puts the bullet inside and tells her that there's a bullet in her head now, she's obeyed the order. And Trish is okay after that._

There was more than one way to understand, 'Back to your spinning wheel'. This one hadn't occurred to him. But perhaps, it should have.

He frowned. That being said, could he alter the manner of his obedience? _She ordered me back to my spinning wheel_ , he thought, trying an experiment. _I must spin._ The force that had kept him from turning around changed its focus almost immediately, practically yanking him behind the wheel and pushing him down on the stool. The basket at his foot was overflowing with straw; Zelena might not have cleaned the cage, but she'd evidently refilled the basket. He reached for a piece, still trying to process what had just happened.

He had always known that it was impossible to disobey the orders of anyone wielding the dagger. The best he could hope for was that the user would give him an order along the lines that Leonora had described, 'Make me an ice cream sundae'. 'Protect me and keep me safe from all harm'. Such loopholes were easy enough to exploit, but there was no way that Zelena would ever be fool enough to word her orders that ambiguously. However, based on what had just happened, it seemed if there was _any_ ambiguity whatsoever, then if Zelena wasn't present to clarify her meaning, the dagger would allow him to carry out her commands as he saw fit So long as he still followed those orders to the letter…

 _To the letter…_

Rumple's eyes widened. "Ohhhh, dearie…" he whispered, not certain whether he was directing his statement toward Zelena or toward himself, "you _are_ slipping."

All his efforts to convince Emma that it was her doubts were holding her back, and yet he'd somehow not considered that his assumptions might just be holding _him_ back, too… A smile ghosted across his face as wheels—internal and external—began to spin. He didn't know yet how to put this new realization into practice, but it would come to him in time. Hopefully sooner, rather than later.

* * *

If she hadn't already heard from Henry, smelling the smoke from the charred trees and seeing the scorched ground in the area to which the GPS had led her would have likely sent Emma into a panic. A step behind her, Regina sucked in her breath. The devastation didn't cover more than a few yards in any one direction, but within those boundaries, it was near total. "His phone's on," Emma said, holding up her own for emphasis. "I told him to turn off the ringer in case the monkeys—or Zelena—heard him before we got here."

"If he has it on vibrate, then maybe you could text him that we've arrived." David suggested.

Emma shook her head. "Once he told me that Elliott left the door open on their hiding place, I told him to keep his phone out of sight after we hung up. We don't know how sharp those monkey's eyes are. I don't think the ones Elliott ran off would be back, but if there's a chance that another patrol could register the light from the screen—" she gestured to the charred wood before them—"No branches to camouflage them from the air now. Any light might point a beacon to them."

"On the one hand," Regina admitted, "that was sensible thinking. On the other hand," she sighed, "I'd feel a lot better if you could phone him now and tell him to show himself. Are we sure that the monkeys wouldn't land and try hunting for them on the ground?"

Emma gestured toward the remains of the fire. "Would you?" When Regina didn't answer, she continued, "Henry said to be on the lookout for a hollow tree. If we can't find it, I'll risk calling him and hope he picks up; we should be close enough now to protect him if trouble comes."

"There," Hook pointed. The tree in question was nearly as wide as the five of them standing abreast. Emma nodded, walked up to the opening, and crouched down. She was aware of the others clustered behind her.

"Henry?" she called. "Uh… Leroy?"

She heard dead leaves rustle and a familiar face appeared. "Mom!"

"Henry!" Emma and Regina both cried out, nearly in unison.

"Henry, are you and Leroy okay?" Emma asked.

Henry scrambled out of the burrow quickly and enveloped Emma in a hug. Leroy followed on his heels. "Uh… yeah," he said, "We're fine. What…" His eyes were huge in his pale dirt-streaked face. "What kind of place is this? Flying monkeys? A flash fire in October? Some… thing else with yellow eyes that looked in on us and left?"

Emma patted his back, trying to calm his rising panic. "It's all going to make sense in a minute, Henry. I promise."

"So we're done with pretending this is another quiet seaside town?" Leroy demanded? "Good. Then maybe I _don't_ need that jug I've been saving in there for a special occasion." He gestured to Henry. "He might, though."

"Mom?" Henry shrugged himself out of her embrace. "What's going on?"

Emma sighed. "I'm sorry I've been keeping things from you. There's a lot that's going on that I didn't think you'd be able to accept. I was wrong. It's time you knew the truth." She held out her hands for the book. Snow passed it to her.

Henry regarded the title on the cover and blinked. "About fairy tales? I… I don't understand."

"Do you trust me, Henry?"

Henry frowned. "Of course, I do."

"Then I need you to believe."

Henry's frown deepened. "Believe in what?"

Emma took a deep breath. "In the truth." She held the book out to him. Henry blinked.

"From a book of fairy tales?"

"It's more than just a book, Henry. Do you believe in me?"

Henry looked met her eyes squarely. "Yes."

"Then take it."

Hesitantly, Henry took hold of the book. Almost the instant that his hands closed about it, his eyes widened. "Mom?" he gasped, unconsciously leaning closer to her. He looked over her shoulder to Regina. "Mom!" Emma stood aside at once and Henry ran past her into Regina's arms. "I remember." He looked back over his shoulder at Emma. "I remember."

There was a catch in Regina's voice when she spoke. "Do it, Emma. Break the curse."

Emma nodded and leaned forward to kiss Henry. Before she could, the boy vanished.

"So sorry to interrupt," a new voice called from above. As one, the heroes turned to see Zelena hovering on a flying broom, dangling Henry by the back of his coat with one hand, while she held on with the other. "Who'd like to say goodbye first?"

"Who are you?" Henry gasped, his arms and legs flailing in the air as he struggled.

"You can call me Auntie Zelena," the witch laughed.

"Enough of this," Regina snapped, stepping forward. In her hand, something started to glow.

"I quite agree," Zelena replied, taking her hand off the broom. A bolt of magic sprang from her fingers and caught Regina in the chest, knocking her back against a tree. The mayor slumped to the ground, dazed.

"Regina!" Snow cried, hastening to her. She cast a furious look upwards.

Zelena sniffed. "Don't blame me. The captain failed me."

"I know," Emma snarled, taking a quick second to shoot Hook a reassuring glance. "Which is why I can still take you." A globe of white fire appeared in her hand.

"Considering what's likely to happen to your brat if I fall," Zelena smirked, "are you sure that's wise?"

Emma started to reply, but froze in surprise when the air behind the witch took on a blue shimmer. An instant later, Elliott materialized, looking bigger than a barn and meaner than Maleficent. Watching him now, Emma wondered how she could have ever thought that he looked _goofy_. Zelena, however, mistook her awe for horror.

"You won't hurt me, savior," Zelena gloated. "Not when it'll kill your son. But never fear. I'll keep him alive for now. I'm sure he'll love the opportunity to reconnect with his—"

Elliott roared. Emma wished that she could have seen the expression on the witch's face when she whirled her broom sharply about to face the new threat. Instead, she had to settle for watching Zelena's posture stiffen, her elbows nearly slam into her torso, and her broom wobble. As Emma watched, Elliott's tail looped twice about Henry's waist. He reached out with his claw and almost delicately pried the witch's fingers off of Henry's coat, one by one. A beatific smile spread across his face and he patted her head. The broom's wobbling grew more pronounced. Elliott's smile dropped and he roared.

With a cry, Zelena clasped both hands about her broom handle, turned, and streaked off. Elliott extended his tail to lower Henry gently to the ground, before flying after Zelena in hot pursuit.

"You okay, kid?" Emma gasped, rushing to him.

Henry nodded. "Y-yeah. Mom… when you were in Passamaquoddy… I mean, was that…?"

Emma nodded, smiling softly. "Yeah. That was Elliott. Turns out he's as real as everyone else in these parts."

"Whoa." The wonder in his eyes evaporated rapidly, though, when he looked around and realized that Regina was still lying at the foot of the tree into which Zelena had hurled her. "Mom!" he exclaimed, as he rushed over to her, brushing past Snow, as he knelt down beside her.

"Mom!" He shook her gently, but there was a note of panic in his voice. "Mom!"

Regina gave a low moan.

"Mom!" Henry urged. "Please, wake up. Mom! Mom!"

Regina opened her eyes and smiled. "Henry."

Henry smiled in relief. "Mom." He and David helped her to her feet.

Regina hugged him. "Henry. Oh, Henry," she whispered, hugging him. "I will never let you go away again, Henry, I promise. I love you, Henry." She kissed him lightly on the forehead.

As her lips touched his skin, a bright light emanated from them and rippled forth. And Regina, Snow, David, and Leroy gasped as their memories came crashing back.

* * *

Driving back to town with Regina beside her and Henry in the back seat, Emma was still trying to process what she'd just learned. Her parents—not Zelena—had cast the Dark Curse for the sole purpose of bringing her in to stop the witch. Zelena had added a forgetting potion to the curse, hoping that bit of sabotage would be enough to keep them from getting in touch with her. It was less clear now as to who it was who had sent Hook to New York. He'd claimed to have received instructions—and the memory potion—from a bird, and thus, from her mother. Meanwhile, Snow denied having sent it. So that was one mystery left to solve.

Truth be told, Emma wasn't overly concerned with it at the moment. She was still wrapping her head around the idea that her mother had crushed her father's heart to enact the curse. And then Regina had taken Snow's heart, split it into two, given half to David and returned the other half to Snow…? Hearts… weren't supposed to work that way. Except that the only way to enact the Dark Curse _was_ to tear out the heart of the thing—or person—you loved most, and her parents were both plainly alive. Emma decided that it might be better not to overthink things. Storybrooke was back. Her parents were alive. Zelena had to be stopped. She was the only one who could do it. At least, she was already feeling a bit more confident about it; thanks to Gold, she'd known that part for a few days already and she'd had time to get used to the idea.

"Hey," Henry called from the back seat. "I just realized something. If that charm was supposed to protect me from Zelena, then how…? I mean…"

Regina sighed "I think it's probably because the monkeys had orders to stop _anyone_ from crossing the town line. They didn't know it was you, all they saw were a man and a boy approaching the boundary." She shook her head. "And then, we didn't exactly help matters by calling out your name repeatedly when we reached the forest."

"Uh… sorry?" Emma spoke up.

"It's okay," Henry reassured her. "I'm okay." In the rear-view mirror, Emma saw him grin. "You know, we could have avoided that problem if you'd gone along with using code-names back when we started Operation Cobra."

Emma laughed and even Regina's lips twitched for a second.

"Hey," Emma said, as they passed the first houses along the main road, "is that Belle?"

"Something's wrong," Regina said. Even from a distance, it was plain that Belle was upset. Her head was down. She was walking at a rapid clip, but she was hugging herself as she did. It might have just been from cold, though; it had grown chilly in the last couple of hours and she wasn't wearing a coat. But that, in itself, was worrisome. Belle wasn't usually one not to bundle up when temperatures dropped. As Emma pulled up alongside her, she could see that the other woman had been crying. She rolled down her window. "Belle? What's the matter?"

Belle stopped then. Regina opened the passenger door and got out. "Belle?"

Belle took a deep shuddering breath. "Rumple," she whispered. "Z-Zelena got him."

Emma was out of the car by then. "What?" She demanded sharply. "How?"

It took longer than it should have for Belle to tell the story. Her voice came in rapid gasps and she broke down in tears partway through. "I was so… stupid," she finished. "Clumsy. If I hadn't dropped the charm—"

Regina rested a hand on her shoulder. "Then she would have found him some other way. Just like she found Henry at the town line, even though he was still wearing _his_ charm. You, me, Emma… we've all been going back and forth to the mines over the last few days. She must have noticed it and deduced why. This _isn't_ your fault, Belle."

"She made me trick him!" Belle snapped, angrily wiping away fresh tears. "He wouldn't have come back onto the town side if he hadn't seen me holding his dagger, telling him it was safe."

"She didn't need you for that," Emma said quietly. "I… found out from Hook, earlier: Ariel hasn't been here since the new curse. The Ariel you and Hook were helping the other day was Zelena using a glamor spell. And there's no reason that Zelena couldn't have used another one to take on your likeness and get him back herself."

Belle blinked. "Then why…?"

"At a guess?" Regina said, keeping her tone soft as well, "Rumple rejected her once. He loves you. She might have chosen to view that as a betrayal. So, by using you to betray him…" Seeing the stunned looks on Emma's and Belle's faces, she lowered her eyes slightly. "I almost wish I didn't have some firsthand experience with that line of logic," she admitted.

"It's the same thing as the cage," Emma said, and if her voice was still quiet, there was no mistaking the fury rushing below its surface. "It's not enough for her to get the job done; she needs to twist the knife while she does it." She realized what she'd just said and let out an angry breath. "I'm not just talking about the dagger."

"She turned me into a weapon," Belle said, tight-lipped. "And she used me against one of the people I love the most."

Regina nodded. "That's right. Trust me, Belle. No matter how awful you feel about this, it is not your fault. When Zelena took your heart, you became a puppet. You had no choice in your actions whatsoever."

Belle closed her eyes. "I just… A little while ago, I remembered what happened during that year. How Zelena got him."

"I remember your telling us," Regina said. She glanced at Emma. "I'll catch you up afterwards."

Belle kept talking. "I thought… I thought that with the strength of our love, maybe he could somehow break free of the dagger." She smiled bitterly. "You told me once that True Love's Kiss could break any curse. I thought, maybe if he tried hard enough, if I coaxed him enough, then maybe he could shatter its hold somehow." She shook her head. "I had no idea. When Zelena took my heart, it was like I was locked up inside myself. I saw and heard everything." Her tone turned incredulous. "My own voice luring him back over the line?" Her shoulders slumped. "And I was pounding away, trying to break free, trying to scream to him to stay where he was…" Her voice had been rising steadily as she spoke, but now it dropped back to a whisper. "And I might as well have been watching something on the television and yelling at the screen." She turned anguished eyes on the other two women. "If I couldn't disobey Zelena when she held my heart, what hope does Rumple have when she holds his dagger?"

Emma let out a breath. "Us," she said, placing her left hand on Belle's right shoulder and taking Belle's left hand in her right. "We're his hope. He's got us."

Belle closed her eyes again, pressed her lips together firmly, and nodded.

* * *

Emma parked in front of the library. She glanced from Regina to Henry. "I'll be here when you're done catching up," she said. "And thanks. I'm going to need all the extra help I can get."

"You know," Regina said, as she got out and moved her seat forward so Henry could slide out of the back, "from what I saw, you're really not doing too badly. Whatever else you might want to say about him, Rumple's always had a knack for getting the best out of his students."

"Thanks," Emma said, moving her own seat forward for Belle, "but the more training I get now, the less likely I'll be to freeze up when it's crunch time."

Regina nodded. "All right. We'll probably be at Granny's for about an hour or so. Should I come back for you here?"

Emma was about to respond in the affirmative, when Belle cut in. "Actually, I think I should just lock up. And then, maybe there's something in the shop that will help." She took another breath. "At least, I'll feel like I'm doing something useful."

"You have been," Regina said with some surprise. "I'm certain I haven't the patience to go reading through all of those grimoires and what-have-you."

"And what good is it doing?" Belle demanded. "Do we really need to know what Zelena is using to cast her spell? She has your heart. She wants David and Mary Margaret's baby. We don't need the specifics."

"Maybe, maybe not," Emma said. "But if there's one thing I've learned about breaking spells or curses or whatever, it's that sometimes, it happens with what you least expect to work. If there's anything in those books that could give us an edge…"

"This… isn't just something to distract me, is it?" Belle asked.

"Not just," Regina said. "But we both know you'll be of more help to Rumple if you can stop beating yourself up for something you couldn't control. If reading a few more musty old pages can calm you down, I'm all for it."

Belle nodded slowly. "All right. Let me just make sure that the library is clear and then I'll grab the tome I was reading and I'll be back out."

* * *

There were plenty of magical items in the shop, of course, but they didn't come with operating instructions. Emma realized that without Gold on-hand to advise them, she might be better off playing with dynamite in a match factory.

When Regina pushed the door open, it was with Henry in tow. He was holding a paper shopping bag with rope handles and wearing a huge grin on his face.

"You don't mind an audience?" Regina smiled. "Henry wants to watch. And you may as well learn to deal with distractions; I'm sure that when the time comes, Zelena will be happy to come up with a few on her own."

Emma's protest died on her lips. "No, that's fine. Where are we going?"

Regina shrugged. "The mine is still the safest place. And with Henry on the other side of the town line, he should be protected enough, should your control slip. However, instead of taking your car, I think it's best we use a faster route. With any luck, if Zelena's got eyes watching you, she'll assume you're still here in the shop."

"Makes sense," Emma admitted, taking her meaning. "Uh… anything I should know about teleporting?" She blinked. In the time that it had taken her to ask the question, Regina had already transported them to the mine.

Regina's lips twitched. "When done properly, it's virtually instantaneous." She glanced at their son. "Henry."

Henry reached into the shopping bag and pulled out a sealed Ziploc bag of…

"Is that… Lite Brite?" Emma asked.

"If you can target those," Regina smiled, "I think we can put aside any worries about your aim and accuracy. I've conjured up a few more pegs than came with the original set, and I can repeat the process if need be. Let's get started. Henry, other side of the line."

* * *

At first, Regina was satisfied with tossing lone pegs into the air, one at a time, for Emma to fire on. After the first dozen or so, she called a halt. "Let's make this a bit more challenging," she said. "Pick a color."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Uh… yellow."

"Very well. I'm going to throw up a few at a time. However, you are only going to target the yellow ones." She met Emma's incredulous look with a level gaze. "Gold was right. If it turns out to be anything other than a one-on-one fight, you'll need to be able to distinguish your actual target instead of just firing on anything that moves."

"I know," Emma said, "but they'll be bigger than those pegs!"

"And if Zelena's surrounded herself with a squadron of monkeys—monkeys who are still our friends, need I remind you? You need to know that you can hit her without touching them. More to the point, what happens if you need to go through Gold?"

Emma shook her head. "Then I'll be screwed."

"I don't think so." Regina's tone was deadly serious. "Not this way. He's been training you with narrow-focused beams, rather than blasts. They're harder to wield than your typical force globes or fireballs, but because you have a large amount of power concentrated in a tight area, you stand an excellent chance at piercing through most magical shields. And that's in addition to being able to pinpoint one target in a crowd." She let that sink in. "Teaching you to treat your magic as you would a game of darts may have been playing to your strengths, but I think it was also… well… a way to give you your best chance if anything happened to him. Shall we proceed?"

"Uh… yeah. Wait." Emma took a deep breath. "Yellow's my favorite color. After everything that's been happening, maybe I should be focusing on blasting the green ones."

"Fair enough," Regina acknowledged with a broad smile.

* * *

Regina started off the new exercise making sure that there was only one green peg in each handful. Once she was satisfied that Emma could pinpoint and hit that, she added a second one, and then a third. Emma was still only hitting two out of three when her phone rang. It startled her, but didn't stop her from zapping another green peg before she picked up.

"Dad?" A moment later, she frowned. "Wait. Hang on. Why the hospital? Well, I know, but… Hold on." She covered the mic with one hand and looked at Regina.

"My mother just went into labor," she said. "Dad's calling to say he's taking her to the hospital, but I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but you Zelena-proofed their apartment, right? Isn't it better if they stay put and we see if we can get Dr. Whale to make a house call? Or barring that, there's got to be a real midwife or two in Storybrooke, hasn't there?"

Regina looked grave. "You're not wrong," she admitted. "But after what we learned today, it's not that simple."

"I don't understand."

Regina took a deep breath. "When I split Snow's heart in two, I didn't know if it would work. There was a good chance I'd end up killing them both."

"Okay," Emma said, "but it worked. They're fine."

"We still don't know that for sure," Regina said. "I grant you that up to this point, they've both seemed fine, but going into labor is going to put extra stress on Snow's heart. It could complicate matters and if it does, she's going to need more medical help than a midwife or even a doctor on a house call can provide. And since added heart stress is normal for labor and childbirth," she continued, "if I go in trying to stabilize her magically, I could jeopardize the baby. There are just... too many variables."

The color drained from Emma's face as Regina finished her explanation. She managed a shaky nod and went back to the phone. "Forget what I was saying," she said heavily. "We'll meet you at the hospital."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Some dialogue lifted from S3:E20 (Kansas)

 **Chapter Nineteen**

The heavy iron fetter dug into his bad ankle every time he moved his leg, no matter how slightly. And the stool on which he sat spinning was hard enough that, after the first hour or so, he'd felt a need to get up and move around a bit. That respite was denied him. Zelena had commanded him to stay seated, commanded him to keep spinning, and conjured up the leg iron as a visual reminder. Thick links of chain connected the cuff to the back post of his spinning wheel. And, in addition to the cramps that had set in from his sitting still for so long, the slightest movement of his leg or foot caused the fetter to dig in, irritating his flesh. The edges of the cuff were sharp and he was certain that he was bleeding, though he couldn't pause from his work to check. Instead, he reached for another piece of straw, attached it to the leader on the bobbin, and kept pushing on the treadle. The pale yellow darkened to gleaming gold and fell onto the metal tray on the floor. Without pausing, he reached for the next piece.

He was suddenly aware of Zelena's presence and his heart began to pound as he wondered what she had planned now. She stooped down and picked up the tray where the spun gold had collected. "There," she said, sounding pleased. "That will do. You said it yourself. Spinning clears your mind."

Rumple didn't answer. Instead he reached for another piece of straw, attached it to the leader on the bobbin, and kept pushing on the treadle. This time, it landed on the floor, but that didn't concern him. He reached for another piece…

He'd been at this for some time and the level of straw in the basket had lowered considerably. As he reached down, his foot slid and he stifled a groan as the edge of the cuff cut into his leg.

Zelena smiled. "That's enough for now, Rumple. Here. Make yourself presentable."

He looked up to see that she was holding out a hanger with one of his designer suits. A dress shirt and tie were included in the ensemble. At her feet, a pair of black dress shoes, polished to a high gloss had appeared.

Frowning, he started to rise and winced as the chain dug in again. Zelena waved her hand and it vanished. Rumple couldn't quite hide his relief, but as he started to rub his ankle, she stopped him with a quick command. "No time for that, dearie. Get dressed. Chop chop!"

With no choice, he staggered over to her to take the suit and waited for her to turn away. She raised her eyebrows. "Well? Get on with it."

An angry flush came to his cheeks as he shed the woolen pullover. He was wearing a plain cotton tee beneath, but it was something that _he'd_ chosen to put on this morning, not something that he'd been ordered to wear.

"Chop chop, dearie!" Zelena snapped.

Of their own accord, his fingers moved to the hem of the tee and pulled it over his head. He went back to the stool to remove his shoes. Then he reached to take the dress shirt from the hanger.

"Trousers first!" Zelena cackled, and he had no choice but to obey.

As he slid down the ones he was wearing, he felt a light weight strike his calf and remembered that he had something in his pocket. He fought to keep his face expressionless. If she suspected… He took the suit pants off the hanger and let them slip from his fingers and fall to the ground.

"Well don't just sit there in your boxers, Rumple! Pick them up!"

He knelt on the floor to do so. And then, with his back to his tormentor, he quickly slid the vial out of the pocket of the old pants and into the pocket of the new. Zelena hadn't noticed and he felt relief wash over him. His father Malcolm hadn't stayed around long enough to teach him much, but the lessons in sleight of hand had stuck. He still had the squid ink. Now he needed to find a way to use it.

* * *

As soon as they'd wheeled Snow into the delivery room, Regina motioned to Emma. "Watch carefully," she said. "It's past time you learned how to cast a protection spell."

"Don't we need invisible chalk for that?" Emma asked.

Regina shook her head. "Besides the fact that, if it couldn't keep my mother out, it won't do much against Zelena… have you ever tried finding it again once you've set it down? No. Think of your parents. Think of the baby. Think about keeping them safe. Picture a wall of magic circling the room, keeping danger at bay. Then use your magic to call the wall into reality. And Emma, this is important: don't just think about keeping Zelena out. If you're concentrating on a specific danger, then that's the only thing your spell will protect against."

"Understood." She hesitated. "You really think this protection spell will be enough to hold her off?"

"It depends," Regina admitted. "If your brand of magic is stronger than hers, then she won't be able to get in here. The problem is, dark magic isn't the only thing you'll need to protect against. If Zelena rips out someone's heart and sends them in to do her dirty work, I'm not sure how effective the protection will be. Ripping out a heart is dark magic, but if the person she's puppeteering isn't using any of it themselves, your spell likely won't be able to keep them out."

"That doesn't sound like the spell is going to be enough."

Regina sighed. "It probably won't be, but we haven't got many options left."

Emma nodded. "Uh… once the spell's cast, does it stand on its own, or do we have to keep powering it?"

Regina frowned. "It'll need some refreshing after a couple of hours, but that won't take nearly as much power. Why?"

Emma's mouth set in a grim line. "In that case, once the spell's cast… I'm heading off to find Zelena. If I can stop her before the baby gets here, we can all relax."

Regina nodded slowly. "Just be careful. You haven't yet gone up against a live opponent, much less one actively trying to kill you."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Both women turned to see Belle standing in the doorway.

Emma hesitated. "Don't take this the wrong way, but is there anything else you're good with besides research?"

Belle let her coat fall open. She wore a long belted shirt—rather like a tunic—over a pair of leggings. From the belt, a sword hung in a scabbard. She drew it and held it at an upward angle, the hilt near her hip, the point aimed throat-high. "The Third Ogre War may have officially started about two years before the first Dark Curse," she explained, "but we'd known it was coming for almost a decade. My father made sure that I would be able to defend myself, if needed."

"Have you ever actually used that?" Regina demanded.

"Not in battle," Belle admitted, "but the year before the war came, Father called a tournament. I fought five duels and won four."

"Good enough for me," Emma said.

"I want to help, too," Hook spoke up.

Emma nodded. "Fine. Once this is done, we head out." Her eyebrows shot up. "Is there such a thing as a silence spell?"

Regina nodded. "It takes time to learn, though. Why? What are you thinking?"

"Well, if Zelena can't talk, then she can't order Gold to do anything, right?"

Regina's eyes widened. "It's a pity you didn't think of this a couple of days ago; we might have been able to master the basics. However…" She walked out of the room abruptly, but returned a moment later with a pad of paper and a pen. "Belle, hopefully you'll find these items in the shop; everything but the sand—and that's ordinary sand, you can pick some up at the beach. It won't last long; not more than five minutes. But that might be all the time you need." Her expression turned grim. "In case Zelena decides to use Rumple against you."

Belle nodded shakily.

"Emma, once you've got the powder, be careful how you fling it about. It'll affect anyone it hits."

"Understood. Thanks, Regina."

"Good luck."

* * *

The silencing powder seemed to be taking forever to make. Emma checked the time on her phone so often that Belle finally told her politely, but firmly, to wait at the front of the shop. Hook started to follow her, but she checked him.

"Stay with Belle," she ordered.

"You're not still upset with me about—"

"No. Well, yes," Emma admitted. "Kind of. But that's not it." Quickly, she explained what Gold had told her.

"I know," Hook protested. "Your parents explained as much to me on the way to find your son. But there's no water here."

"If she could make it rain in the mine, she can make it rain in the shop," Emma pointed out. "Besides, if Zelena comes here, what exactly do you think you can do besides draw her fire? Stay with Belle."

For a moment, she thought that the pirate would argue further, but he merely rolled his eyes and retreated into the back room. With a sigh of relief, Emma walked over to the window and peered through the Venetian blinds at the street outside. She didn't expect there to be anything especially interesting, but she wasn't in any mood to finish reading _The Patchwork Girl of Oz_ at the moment, and while she was no cat, she knew that too much curiosity about some of the items in the shop might prove just as fatal to her as to that proverbial feline. So, she looked out on the street and thought about how normal the day seemed to everyone else…

…Right up until a hailstone the size of a baseball came crashing down on the hood of Doc's Miata, which was parked across the street.

"What the hell…?" she said aloud.

More hailstones rained down, and the street cleared amid shouts of alarm.

"Swan?" Hook was at her side in a moment. She turned to him furiously.

"Go back to Belle!" she snapped. "I'll deal with this."

She was hoping that her last statement didn't fall under the heading of 'famous last words,' as she stepped out of the shop.

* * *

The hailstones were getting bigger every minute. Emma promptly forgot about 'tight focused strikes' and went back to using force globes to break them apart. After the first dozen or so, she realized that Gold's advice had been right: her arms and shoulders ached as though she'd been lobbing bowling balls and she was beginning to feel light-headed. She dashed back into the shop.

"How's that powder coming?" she demanded.

Belle handed her a leather drawstring pouch. "Wait," she said. She opened one of the drawers behind the counter and pulled out a slingshot. "The powder's too light to fly far on its own," she explained.

"Thanks." She leaned heavily on one of the cases.

"Swan, are you all right?" Hook asked.

Emma sighed. "I guess I just needed a reminder: all magic comes with a price. If I want to blast hailstones to smithereens, it's going to drain me."

He peered at the window. "How long for you to recharge?" he asked. "Those cars are looking flatter every moment and I've seen stormy seas smoother than that road."

Emma joined him at the window and started to swear. Hook wasn't kidding; there were more potholes than road at the moment. "Work smarter, not harder," she muttered under her breath. "I wasn't getting this tired before." She frowned then. "I wonder…"

Gold hadn't taught her defensive spells, but if she took a force globe and _flattened_ it somehow... She sank deep into her magic, shaping it slowly to her will. When she opened her eyes, her arm bore a round disc, roughly the size of a manhole cover.

"A shield?" Hook asked, approving.

"Let's test it fast," Emma suggested. "Throw something at it. Hopefully something that won't break my arm if I'm wrong." She didn't feel wrong, though. She already knew the kind of power she was packing in those globes. She was just spreading it wider and keeping it closer.

Hook eyed the items on the shelves, considering.

"Here." Belle held up a snow globe.

Hook flung it at the shield. There was an audible retort and it bounced off.

"I didn't feel anything," Emma breathed. "Try something heavier."

Hook nodded and hefted a large marble egg. She felt a slight impact when it hit, but the sound it made when it crashed to the floor startled her more.

Belle took a deep breath. "Can you… move the shield away from you? Or can you step away from it?" She held up her hand so that Emma could see the pistol.

Emma's eyes widened slightly. From outside, they could still hear the hail. "I think so," she said. Her shield was a narrow wall when she stepped away. Belle fired the gun and Emma flinched, but the shield held.

"Embedded," Hook remarked, walking up to it and tapping the bullet. "Nice."

"Let's hope it's enough," Emma said.

She ran back into the street, keeping the shield above her like a roof or an umbrella. She wasn't surprised when the hailstones suddenly converged on her. This time, though, instead of force globes, a fine hair of magic sprouted from each finger on her right hand. Using her left to maintain the shield, she waved the right about, letting her magic carve up the hail into smaller, less-deadly chunks.

"It'll do you no good, savior," Gold said from somewhere to her left. Startled, she turned to face him, pulling her shield down slightly, to be ready if he should attack. "How long do you think you can keep this up? A few minutes? An hour?" He tossed a fireball in her direction and she deflected it quickly. "Keep at it," he sneered. "The more power you use now, the less you'll have to fight with later."

Emma's eyes narrowed. If she ignored his mocking tone… it sounded as though he was trying to warn her. She pulled her shield into two and blocked the next two fireballs. "What else can I do?" she demanded. "She'll tear up the town with all of this." She hoped he understood _her_ message: _I know Zelena's the one behind this. I know that she's using you. I know none of this is your fault._

He gave a slight nod. "You can let the pirate carry out her instructions. Otherwise, this continues—"

From down the street a whirlwind spun closer. "Time's up, dearie!" Zelena cackled, flying before it. "Oh," she said, feigning concern. "You don't really need your shop anymore, do you?"

 _So much for the silencing powder,_ Emma realized. She needed both hands for the slingshot and she didn't dare drop her shield. It would have to keep for another time.

The whirlwind shifted direction slightly, veering onto the sidewalk at a diagonal. As Emma watched, a fire hydrant groaned as it ripped away from its base. That thing wasn't just going to take out the shop; it was going to rip up the whole block! Hook. _Belle._ From the pallor of Gold's face, he had to have realized the same thing.

"Come along, Rumple!" Zelena ordered, brandishing the dagger. "We're wanted elsewhere!" And then, they were both gone. The cyclone, however, remained.

Emma fought down a wave of panic. She'd handled a cyclone before. A much smaller one, true, but she had a feeling she needed to dismantle this one the same way. _Note the direction of the spin_ , she reminded herself. _It's counter-clockwise. Now reverse it. Calm down._ " The winds were almost upon her. She tried to banish all thoughts of what would happen if she couldn't do this. She closed her eyes, found her center, and imagined the winds unraveling, spinning clockwise, and slowing down.

The whirlwind she'd created days ago to clean up the broken glass had been a tiny thing. It hadn't existed for more than a few seconds, and it had been her own creation. This monstrosity was slightly older and quite a bit larger. She couldn't just unravel it. Then…? _It's a tangle of winds. If you think of each air current as thread… Find the free end and start winding it up!_ Focusing, she pictured a gust of wind trailing like a stray thread, wrapped her magic around it and gave an experimental tug. An instant later, she recognized her mistake. Pulling on a tangled mess only tightened the knots. No, she needed to carefully, painstakingly work the thread over, under, and out of the other tangles, and winding, always winding, so that the bit she'd freed wouldn't get caught up again. She gritted her teeth. This might take a while…

As some point, she knew that the winds stopped their howling. Her hair no longer whipped at her face. Her shield was gone, but the only things hitting her now were twigs, pebbles, and bits of shingle. They stung without doing real damage. And then, her magic sought the next bit of wind to wind and found nothing. She opened her eyes and looked at the pulsating sphere in her hands. It did look a lot like a ball of black yarn, shot through with sizzling lightning bolts. She passed her hand over it once and it disappeared.

Emma leaned against the gray clapboard front of the shop—the blessedly solid front of the shop, and slowly let herself sink to the sidewalk.

A moment later the door opened. "Emma?" Belle asked.

Her head was almost too heavy to lift. "I think it's over," she whispered. "Just… let me sit here for a few minutes and get used to it."

Hook crouched down next to her and the look in his eyes had her sitting bolt upright in an instant. "Afraid there's no time for that, love," he said seriously. "Belle's had a text from Regina; I imagine you got one as well, while you were distracted. Your sibling is about to be born and Zelena and the Dark One are at the hospital."

* * *

The cyclone had done too good a job of tearing up the street. Emma couldn't risk driving. And damage to the sidewalks meant that she and the others couldn't run as fast as they might have liked without risking a stumble. They hurried toward the hospital as best they could.

As the automatic doors whooshed open, though, all it took was a single glance to realize that they were too late. In the corridor, several nurses and doctors lay stunned. Others were getting up shakily or groaning on the floor as they came to. More horrific, though, was the keening wail coming from one of the rooms at the end of the hall.

"Mom!" Emma gasped, racing down the corridor.

Her mother was sitting up in bed sobbing brokenly as David, Regina, and Henry did their best to comfort her.

Regina looked at her. "Gold and Zelena were just here. They blasted through the protection spells as though they were so much tissue paper and took the baby."

Emma nodded tersely. "Come on," she said. "They haven't left town. We can find them." She spun on her heel and the room seemed to sway. Her knees buckled and she crashed to the ground.

"Swan!" Hook exclaimed, bending over her.

"Let me," Regina said, already at her side. She frowned. "What have you been doing?" she asked.

Why was her head pounding so? "Trying to stop them," she muttered.

"Zelena threw a cyclone at us," Belle broke in. "Well, she sent it down Main Street, but it was toward us."

"And hail before that," Hook added.

Regina looked up sharply. "Is this true?"

Emma nodded.

"That explains it, then," Regina said with a sigh. "Zelena couldn't steal your magic, so she drained it instead." She frowned. "You ran all the way here, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Except where the sidewalks were torn up."

Regina sighed again. "It's a miracle your heart is still beating. It took almost everything you had to deal with what she threw at you and you should have collapsed then and there after you'd finished."

"I did for a minute," Emma admitted. "Then we got your message and… had to get here."

Regina shook her head. "That shouldn't have been physically possible, unless you used whatever reserve of magic you had left to keep moving. In other words, when your magic was already running low you used the little you had left to give yourself the strength to get back here. Which, of course, drained you nearly dry. Now… well, now, you need to rest. You'll be lucky if you can open your eyes for the next twenty-four hours, much less use magic."

"But… she has the baby," Emma said, trying to stand. Belle and Hook helped her up, but her legs gave way again almost immediately.

"Well, there's not much you can do about that in the state you're in," David said firmly."

"Emma," Snow's voice was faint, "they're right. I… I can't lose you, too. We'll," she took a deep breath, "we'll have to find another way. Somehow. We…" She turned to her husband and buried her face in his chest with a sob.

"Unfortunately," Regina said, "there is no other way."

"Wait," Henry interrupted. "That's not true, Mom. You can do it."

Regina shook her head. "Sweetheart," she said sadly, "I don't think I can survive round three with my sister. Glinda was pretty specific. Only the purveyor of the strongest light magic can defeat her."

Henry was undeterred. "I know," he said. "Zelena only beat you because you were using dark magic against her."

Regina blinked. "But… that's all I have." She felt a tug on her arm and looked down at Emma.

"It… it's not," Emma said, fighting to stay awake. Her words were slurring a bit and she struggled to make herself understood. "When you kissed Henry, that was True Love's Kiss. That's light magic."

"See?" Henry insisted. "You can do it!"

Regina's voice seemed to be caught halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Henry, I don't even have my heart right now."

"That doesn't matter," Henry said. "You broke the curse without it and I know you still love me. I know there's good in you."

"But…" Regina was still shaking her head. "I don't… We don't even know where she took him."

Belle lifted her head. "A locator spell would…"

"For the baby? He's a newborn. He… doesn't own anything yet."

"No," Belle admitted, "but Rumple does. I need to get back to the shop," she continued. "With all the times that people and things go missing around here, I've got a few doses of the potion already prepared and Rumple must have a few personal effects there, too. In fact, I know he does."

"I'll teleport you," Regina replied.

* * *

It didn't take Belle long to get what was needed. The librarian wanted to come with her to enlist the aid of the fairies, but Regina turned her down. "If this fails, I'm out of ideas," she admitted. "Take some time, look around, and see if there's anything here that you recognize that might be helpful."

At first, she thought Belle might protest further, but the other woman nodded, albeit reluctantly and Regina teleported herself to the convent.

Blue was less than encouraging when Regina explained what she wanted.

"I'm afraid that our magic won't be enough to overcome Zelena," she said, "and our wands won't suffice either."

"I know," Regina replied. "But one thing is clear: I _can_ wield light magic, but I may not be able to wield enough of it. However, if we join forces…"

Blue thought for a moment. "It's possible," she allowed, "but it's not likely. However, there may be an alternative."

"Yes?"

Blue seemed to come to a decision. "I'll tell the other fairies to accompany you. Meanwhile, I'll speed up the savior's recovery time. It won't be instantaneous," she cautioned, "but it will be faster." She was still frowning.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Blue hesitated. "If a child's life weren't at stake, I'd advise you not to proceed with your plan. The healing I'm about to do will replenish much of the savior's light magic, but it may not restore it to full strength. If you can truly wield light magic now, Your Majesty, you would be better served waiting to use it in tandem with the savior's."

"But the child's life _is_ at stake," Regina pointed out. "How long until you've healed Emma?"

"Eight hours. Perhaps twelve. Under normal circumstances, an acceptable delay."

"But these aren't normal circumstances," Regina replied. "All right. We go in fast. One attempt to get the baby. We don't waste time on a magic fight; we grab the child and go. If she's ready for us, if we have a real fight on our hands, then we… retreat and wait for Emma to recover. I don't like it, but I don't see as we have much choice."

"I quite agree," Blue said, smiling primly. Then, so silently that Regina wondered whether she was gliding on air, she got up from her desk and walked over to her office door. In one swift motion, she pulled it open and Tink half-fell into the room.

"I was just walking by and stopped to rest for a moment," the other fairly said unconvincingly.

Blue sighed. "That's something we can discuss later, Green. Since I've no doubt you heard much of our conversation while you were… resting, you may as well assemble the others. You've a mission." She reached behind the door for her overcoat. "And so have I."

* * *

As they approached the farmhouse, Rumpelstiltskin held the baby in his arms as she'd ordered him. Under other circumstances, it might have been a pleasant task; it wasn't as though he had much opportunity to hold babies. Storybrooke's mothers were never eager to show off their offspring to him. More often than not, they hurried their carriages and strollers past his shop window as though he might steal their children away in broad daylight, with no pre-existing contract. He told himself that it was best not to pay the baby much mind. He knew what Zelena had planned and the more he allowed himself to care, the worse it would tear at him when the time came to enact the spell.

The baby began to wail and he automatically pulled it— _him!_ —close.

"Keep the brat quiet, Rumple!" Zelena snapped, brandishing the dagger.

Another non-specific command. Thankfully. He conjured a full baby bottle and pushed the nipple into the child's mouth. The crying stopped. Despite his resolve, Rumple looked down at the baby in his arms and smiled.

Zelena glanced over her shoulder at him and smirked. "I would've just used a silencing spell," she said, "or sealed its mouth shut." She held the door open and motioned for him to precede her. "Stay in the kitchen," she ordered. "Guard the child. I need to collect a few things."

* * *

When Regina and the fairies burst into the kitchen, he knew that their attempt was doomed. With Zelena's last order in force, he had no choice but to unleash his power. "If I could stand down, Your Majesty, I would," he said, flinging her into the refrigerator door with a gesture. He spared a glance for the baby, safe in his basket on the kitchen table. A quick spell ensured that neither child nor basket would stir from that spot unless he willed it.

The fairies aimed their wands at him and glittering beams of light streaked toward him.

"Really, dearies?" he sighed, making another gesture. The beams dispersed before they reached him.

"Try wearing him down," Regina suggested. "Come at him from all sides."

"Bad move sharing your strategy with your foe," Rumple remarked, deflecting another bolt of light. He caught a flicker of movement out the corner of his eye and sent a force bolt to knock Tink's crossbow from her hand. It skittered to the floor. He waved his hand and it floated toward him. His eyes widened slightly when he recognized the substance coating the bolt's tip. "Dreamshade can't harm me here, bug," he said, as he sent another force bolt to knock her off of her feet. "Nice try, though."

And then, Zelena appeared beside him in a puff of green smoke. "I think this has gone on long enough," the witch snapped, waving the dagger. "Rumple, get the child out of here. Keep him somewhere safe until the proper time." She flexed her fingers. "I'll deal with our intruders…"

* * *

He hadn't had a particular destination in mind, but at Zelena's command, he found himself in the back room of his shop. Hardly surprising. There was more than enough in this place to protect the child from any further interference.

 _To protect the…_ His eyes grew wide. Zelena's last command had been… He leaned against a set of shelves and realized that he was trembling. What he was thinking… if he did it… when Zelena found out, she would…

Why should he bother? It wasn't as though the rest of the town acknowledged his efforts when they _asked_ for them, much less when they didn't. He remembered now how Regina and the Charmings had come seeking his advice when he'd been caged in his own castle. Once again, they'd needed his help. Once again, he'd needed _theirs_. Well, perhaps, 'help' was too strong a word for what he'd needed from them. It wasn't as though there'd been anything that they could have done. What stung, though, was the certainty that if it had been anyone else…

 _…_ _Anyone else in Zelena's cage_

 _…_ _Anyone else who was grieving over a son who had (at least, as far as he'd believed then) been mortally wounded and fallen through a portal_

 _…_ _Anyone else whose true love had just been shot and stripped of her memories_

They would have _tried_. They would have asked if there was something they could do for him. They would, at least, have shown him some modicum of consideration. Instead…

 _Sorry you're a slave to that witch, Rumple. We need your help. Oh, Rumple, we're so sorry that Neal's dead, but the town's in danger, so could you pull yourself together and save us? Never mind that Belle doesn't remember you anymore, just take a second and heal this guy, will you? Help us. Save us. Solve our problems for us._

Why did he even bother? Why should he? They didn't care about him; they just cared about what he could do for them. In that regard, they weren't all that different from Zelena.

 _"_ _If you just can't face doing anything for anyone right now… I understand. Even if you aren't up to helping us, if you come with me now, at least, she can't use you against us."_

The memory sliced through his self-pity like a dwarf pickaxe through a diamond. Emma had set aside her own pain long enough to recognize his. She hadn't demanded his help, much less asked for it. She'd taken it for granted that he'd need time to grieve. And when he'd needed _her_ help, she'd been there. She hadn't treated him like an inconvenience. She hadn't been impatient with his sorrow or his fears. She'd given him the time he'd needed to start coming to grips with what had happened to him and she hadn't rushed him. He was in her debt.

And the baby in the basket was her brother.

But the punishment that Zelena would exact from him if he took advantage of this loophole… And the Charmings might never know what he'd done. And if they did know, would they care about the price he'd pay for his actions? Or would they come up with some sanctimonious blather about how the reward for doing the right thing was simply knowing that you'd been good? They'd probably expect him to keep right on doing the right thing without charging them for it. And they'd keep leaving him out in the cold after he'd done it. And…

And what if he was wrong? What if they finally welcomed him into their midst, thinking that—like Regina—he'd changed? How long would it be before he stuffed up his chances again? Belle had already walked out on him several times. How long before she gave up on him altogether? At least, when he was treated as a semi-pariah, he knew what to expect and how to act. _Maybe his life was crap, but it was familiar crap._

Again, his eyes grew wide. He knew what was happening now and he knew that Elliott had been right that night on the beach. Darkness and evil _were_ two different things—closely related, yes, but still separate. Darkness was the voice lent to his fears and doubts, the voice that robbed him of hope, the voice that told him that he would never be accepted, never be liked, never be supported… Darkness wasn't evil; it was the state of mind that encouraged him to _choose_ evil. And every time he did, darkness was the voice that told him how far he'd fallen and how unlikely it was that he could ever come back. Darkness was despair and desperation. It robbed him of any hope that things might be better and any desire to see if they could be.

But right now, thanks to Zelena's unthinking ambiguous command, he _did_ have a choice. He could do what he knew Zelena wanted… or he could put a dent in the debt he owed to Emma. There was a safety in doing the expected. He might not _enjoy_ it, but he could endure it. The other option terrified him, precisely because he _didn't_ know what to expect. Anything might come of it. Or nothing. He didn't know which outcome scared him more.

And he was scared.

But that didn't mean he couldn't act.

But Zelena would…

Emma's brother…

Zelena's vengeance…

Bae had sacrificed his life so that Zelena could be stopped.

And now… Rumpelstiltskin held the key to stopping her—or to helping her—swaddled and lying in a wicker basket on the counter.

He looked down at the baby, so tiny, so vulnerable, smaller than Bae had been the first time he'd clapped eyes on him. If he turned the infant back over to Zelena, then Bae would have sacrificed his life in vain.

Emma had helped him and asked nothing from him in return that he hadn't been prepared to give. But just because she hadn't demanded payment didn't mean he didn't owe her. And a gentleman always paid his debts.

And if he meant to honor his son's memory, then there really was only one choice. The right choice.

He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. "For you, Bae," he whispered. With that, the dark whisperings in his mind fell silent. His decision was made. Feeling oddly light-headed, he took a small chest from one of the shelves, opened it, and removed a curious-looking sphere. Then he picked up the baby basket.

An instant later, the shop was empty.

* * *

Belle had returned to the library after parting from Regina. She always found it easier to read and research when she was surrounded by books—even if they weren't relevant to her topic of interest. It was quiet now, with only the hum of the furnace and the almost inaudible whirr of the computer fans in the background.

The last thing she expected was to see Rumple materialize before her. And then, almost before she could react, he had transported her back to the mine—a site that ranked dead last on a list of places in Storybrooke she most wanted to revisit. Even the basement of the hospital didn't give her this same sinking feeling—nobody had handcuffed her to a cart and tried to make her forget who she was down there. Nobody had forced her to betray the man she loved and watch his humiliation down there. But here…

Her breath caught as Rumple thrust a swaddled bundle at her. "Rumple?" she managed in disbelief, as she registered that she was holding a baby.

Uncharacteristically, Rumple didn't so much as greet her, much less reach out to her. "No time," he said tersely. "She might call me back at any moment now."

"Wh-what?"

"Belle, take the child and go!"

Belle's eyes widened and she broke into a disbelieving smile. "I love you," she whispered and took a step back toward the entrance. Rumple stopped her.

"No, not that way!" Her confusion must have registered with him, because now, he did put a hand on her arm and take a deep breath. "At the farmhouse, Zelena commanded me to take the child away and keep him safe 'until the time comes'. I can't think of anywhere he'll be safer than with you. Outside of Storybrooke. You have to go now. When Zelena discovers what I've done, she's certain to come after you—if she doesn't make me do it. I-I need you to leave before that can happen. Through the tunnel, to the wood. And then," he pressed a sphere into her hand, "throw this into the air, as high as you can. It'll tell Elliott where to find you." He released her abruptly.

"Elliott?"

"Guardian dragon. He'll fly you and the child back to Passamaquoddy. But you must go now."

Belle nodded shakily. She slid the sphere into her pocket and clutched the baby more tightly. Once over the line though, she stopped. "Rumple… what will she _do_ to you?"

He closed his eyes. "She won't make me kill you; that's certain. Beyond that… I'm trying not to think that far ahead." His voice broke then and she felt tears spring to her own eyes as he whispered, "Please go."

She pressed her lips together and nodded once, a quick jerky movement. Then she turned and took off down the tunnel.

Rumpelstiltskin watched her go. Then, with a sigh, he turned around and realized suddenly that he was not alone. David Nolan was standing several yards away, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. No telling how long he'd been there or how much he'd seen or heard. Rumple took a step toward him, about to explain, when he felt the dagger's power coil about him and whisk him away.

* * *

He hadn't known how much pain the dagger could inflict, but Rumple suspected that before the night was done, he was likely to find out the upper limit. He felt as though he was being flayed alive and plunged in acid. At first he'd screamed, but he no longer had the strength to do more than whimper as he lay, curled in a ball, on the floor of his cage. That didn't mean that there was no screaming going on. Zelena had brought one of her monkeys into the cellar with her and the thing was screeching its annoying head off—when it wasn't attacking him with teeth and claws. He couldn't fight _that_ either, not when Zelena had commanded him to 'lie there and take his punishment'. His agony continued, unrelenting.

Finally, Zelena lowered the dagger and waved off the monkey, but she wasn't finished yet. She circled him slowly, pausing at intervals to kick him savagely in his ribs, his back, his legs, his groin... When she stomped her full weight down on his bad ankle, he discovered that he still had the energy to scream after all. "You think you've won?" Zelena demanded. "You think I'm beaten? You know, I was going to let you make the trip back with me and give you a second chance with your son, but now… I think I'll drown the little brat before he ever has the chance to go through that portal."

Rumple groaned something and Zelena held up the dagger again. "Repeat that."

Compelled by the magic, his voice strengthened. "Then you'll fail," he repeated. "I would never have become the Dark One in the first place if Bae hadn't been drafted to the Ogre's War. That happened on his fourteenth birthday. If he dies before then, I'll never become the Dark One. If Bae doesn't cross to this realm, I'll never need a Dark Curse. No need for a curse-caster then, dearie." He snorted. "Not that you can cast your spell now anyway. You seem to be missing a rather key ingredient."

Zelena began to laugh. "Oh, Rumple," she gasped, "you actually thought I needed that particular child? Please. I grant you, I would have preferred him; there's a certain poetry to using Queen Eva's own grandson as the catalyst to remove her from the timeline, but the truth is that _any_ true love baby will do. And I've had a spare with me all along." She gestured toward the monkey and a cloud of green smoke surrounded it. When it cleared a moment later, the monkey had vanished and a wide-eyed young woman crouched in the corner where it had been. She was noticeably pregnant.

"Meet Aurora," Zelena smiled, holding up the dagger. "I've been… delaying her delivery date for a few weeks, just in case anything went wrong with my first choice." She nodded at the dawning horror in the young woman's eyes.

"That's right," she continued pleasantly. "Snow White's child is beyond my reach, thank to him," she pointed the dagger at Rumple and her smile broadened when he stifled a cry. "So, that means I'll need yours after all."

Her smile fell away as she turned her full attention to Rumple. "I'll wait another twenty-four hours for the child to arrive naturally. After that," she shrugged, "use magic to induce her if you must. Assist with the delivery. Remain in your cage. Keep the child alive. The mother isn't my concern; you can do what you like with her." Aurora drew her head up rigidly at that. Were it not for the pallor of her face, her expression was calm enough that one might almost have thought that she didn't know what was going on.

"Actually," Zelena was smiling prettily again, "now that I think of it, I realize that this will work out rather well. The Charmings will know that their child is safe. Like you, they'll think that means I can't cast my spell. Oh, they'll be looking for me. They may even make a half-hearted attempt to come after _you_ for form's sake…" Green smoke swirled and when it cleared, the cellar had vanished. The walls that surrounded them now were white plaster and the cage rested on a hardwood floor. "Pity they won't know where to look," Zelena continued. "Still, they'll assume that the primary danger is past..." She slid the dagger back into its sheath and began to walk away.

"…Until it's too late," she finished.

The door closed on her laughter.


	20. Chapter 20

TW: Non-graphic but moderately explicit description of magically-assisted childbirth.

 **Chapter Twenty  
**

Rumple sat in one corner of the cage, facing the mesh, with his knees drawn up to his chin. The worst of the pain had faded, though he still ached where the witch had kicked him. And his ankle had rarely hurt this much since the original injury. With nothing on-hand to treat his wounds, and forbidden from using the magic that would heal them, the only thing he could do was try not to move about and do his best not to dwell on his discomfort.

The cage wasn't particularly large, but he supposed it wasn't really _that_ cramped for a single person. Had he been in a room of the same dimensions—one with walls instead of wire mesh, and from which he could come and go as he chose, it probably would have been somewhat cozy, but roomy enough. With the right furnishings, it might even have been comfortable. But, of course, it was a cage, there was mesh—as well as two stools, a spinning wheel, and not much else—and he was no longer the sole individual locked inside. He hugged his knees more tightly and tried to ignore the other occupant.

For her part, Aurora seemed to be doing her best to ignore him. Since Zelena had left them alone, she hadn't spoken a single word. Rumple might have expected her to rage or cry or try to talk him into sparing her or helping her to escape. Instead, she sat silently in the corner diagonally opposite him, slumped against the mesh to her left, her legs stretched out before her, and her feet together.

There was only one pile of straw in the cage and it hadn't been changed for as long as he could remember. He sighed. "If you wish to lie down, you may help yourself to the straw in the basket to cover the floor," he told her flatly, without turning his head. "It won't provide much padding, but it's clean."

For a moment, there was silence. Then a soft voice whispered, "Thank you." She made no move to rise. Rumple gave a mental shrug. If she expected him to help her, she'd have a long wait. Bad enough to be Zelena's slave, without being servant to a pampered, spoiled, little princess. Or was she a queen, yet? He hadn't been in any shape to pay attention to such details during his most recent time in the Enchanted Forest. At any rate, Zelena had made it clear to him that he could only use that straw for spinning, and used the dagger to ensure the order would stick. He couldn't pick up more than a single piece of it at a time, and when he did, her order compelled him to attach it to the leader on the bobbin and work the treadle. Aurora was under no such restriction.

"It's true, then?" Aurora asked suddenly. "Snow's baby is safe?"

More than a little surprised that _that_ seemed to be her main concern at a time like this, he gave a slight nod.

The princess—for now, he'd keep thinking of her that way—sighed in relief. "I'm glad of that, at least."

Incredulous now, he straightened his posture and turned to face her. "Even though it means your own child will take his place?"

Aurora seemed to shrink lower at his words. "Of course, I don't want that," she replied in a low voice. "But, you see… I'm the reason that her baby was in danger in the first place. Zelena would never have known about Snow's return to the Enchanted Forest, were it not for my betrayal."

Rumple said nothing and the princess seemed to take it as an invitation to continue talking. "She came to us some weeks before you all returned from this land. She," here Aurora cupped her hands protectively about her belly, "told me that I was fortunate to be carrying a child that was the product of True Love, and that she was fortunate as well, because she had need," Aurora sucked in her breath. "…had need of such a child." She passed her hand over her eyes. "Philip tried to run her off at sword-point, but she held up her hand and he froze where he stood. And before I could blink, I was held fast in the same way. She drew close to me and she laid her hands…" A flush rose to the princess's cheeks. "She made me feel as if I was an animal in the marketplace, being assessed for breeding purposes."

He didn't want to react. Zelena's last commands were still ringing in his ears and the less he cared about the princess's predicament, the less he'd hate himself when he had to carry them out. Despite his best efforts, he found himself nodding sympathetically. "She does have that way about her, dearie," he muttered.

Aurora took another breath. "She told me that she would be back to claim my child when the time was right, but that there was a way I could spare him. All I needed to do was send word to her, when a daughter of the house of King Leopold and Queen Eva returned to this land. And if she should become with child before my own was born, then Zelena would take that baby instead of mine."

Rumple's brow furrowed. The future was a complicated puzzle, one that had taken him decades before he could begin to fit the pieces together. Even with experience, it was difficult to assemble enough of them to see anything close to the whole picture. But there were spells that could afford the caster a glimpse of what might lie ahead. A fleeting image, a hazy impression… a single thread in the tapestry. Usually such a glimpse would be of something rather significant. The sudden return of some several thousand individuals to their land struck him as the sort of thing that would probably qualify. So, Zelena might well have known to expect them. And with this princess as her spy, she would have had no need to get close to the heroes and risk discovery, until she wished to reveal herself.

"Snow was my friend," Aurora continued miserably. "I owe her my life. And yet, I betrayed her to save my child. I condemned her child to the fate Zelena intended for mine. And now… you tell me that her child is free and alive, despite my betrayal. I can't regret that. I can only," a sob escaped her, "regret that my own child won't be as fortunate."

Rumple heaved a great sigh. He knew this ploy. She was hoping to soften his heart, much as another princess had managed with the huntsman who had been tasked to kill her. There was nothing to gain in stringing her along. "I'm sorry," he said, meeting her eyes for the first time. "I've no wish to carry out Zelena's orders, but I'm afraid I've no choice in the matter."

Aurora was silent for a moment. Then, in a small voice, she asked, "Did she take your heart, then?"

He blinked. "Not precisely, but I suppose it's rather like that." He could see no benefit to revealing exactly who he was now. The princess was already shaken. If she found out that she was locked up with the Dark One, it might send her into hysterics and then _he'd_ be the one to have to listen to her screams.

"Oh." Aurora nodded her understanding. "I-I'm so sorry."

He tried to shrug. "Not your doing, dearie."

"No," Aurora replied, "but a pirate took my heart once and gave it to a woman named Cora. So, I do know what it's like to be under someone else's control." She sighed. "Enough to know that pleading with you not to do as she asks would be futile."

Rumple blinked in surprise at the mention of Cora's name. He supposed he had an idea of who the pirate was as well, although if he had the power to take hearts, perhaps she was referring to a different man. It didn't much matter now. He turned his face back to the mesh. "Correct."

"Thank you for being honest with me."

The cage was silent and after a moment, Rumple turned back to look at her again. She was sitting cross-legged now and hugging herself. He almost wished that Aurora would beg or cry or rage. He found the young woman's quiet, almost dazed acceptance of her situation unnerving. He shook his head sadly. "If there were any loophole I could find in her orders…"

Aurora looked at him with a tremulous smile. "I know."

* * *

"So, our son is in… Passamaquoddy with Belle?" Snow asked incredulously.

David nodded. "I think they probably are by now."

"What were you doing in the mine anyway?" Regina asked.

David sighed. "I was thinking of a worst-case scenario. Zelena's planned her scheme carefully. I had to consider that she might make good on her threats to Belle." At Snow's shocked look, he nodded. "If that had happened, if we'd needed another locator spell to find Gold, you know that most of what's in his shop isn't really his. It's stuff from the Enchanted Forest that somehow turned up in his shop. And, since Gold had one break-in before the curse broke," here he looked meaningfully at Regina, who smiled slightly, "I think we can assume that once he brought magic back, he probably booby-trapped his home against further break-ins."

"But," Regina said with sudden understanding, "those items that he acquired outside of Storybrooke, the ones which he was using on the other side of the town line, couldn't have been magically protected and they're clearly his. That was… surprisingly smart thinking."

If David was at all offended by Regina's backhanded compliment, it didn't show. "As it turns out, with Belle away, it looks like we'll need them."

"I have to hand it to Rumple," Regina admitted. "After Belle told us how Zelena tricked him over the town line, I didn't think he'd dare to risk defying her again."

"And then he gets Belle _and_ our child out of her grasp, practically under her nose," Snow said in wonder. Her expression turned troubled. "Zelena's not going to take it well, is she?"

Regina laughed. "No, I really don't imagine she is."

Snow didn't smile back. "So," she turned troubled eyes from her husband to her stepmother, "what does that mean for Rumpelstiltskin?"

David shook his head grimly. "Belle asked the same question. I… think we know the answer, if not the details."

"We have to do _something,_ David."

Regina sighed. "We can't do anything until Emma wakes up. You know what Blue said: even with a magical jumpstart, she still needs rest to build up her power reserve."

David raised an eyebrow. "I'm having a hard time imagining Blue using a phrase like 'magical jumpstart'."

"So? I'm paraphrasing," Regina retorted. "At any rate, there's no need for hurry, now. With the baby safely away, Zelena can't cast her spell. And without a way of crossing realms, she's trapped here with the rest of us. It's just a matter of time until we find her."

"And Rumpelstiltskin?" David demanded. "I've been thinking about our… visit to his castle. And the storm cellar. Not to mention what Belle told us. We know what conditions Zelena's been keeping him under. We need to do something to get him away from her."

"I know," Regina admitted. "And we might as well admit that his instructing Emma probably gave this town its best chance. I'm… not entirely sure I could have faced down a hailstorm and a cyclone and come out of it nearly as well."

"As well?" Snow echoed. "She's—"

"—Exhausted," Regina nodded. "But she's alive. Given the forces she went up against, that was by no means guaranteed."

"All of which means," David said seriously, "we can't just leave him in her clutches. We owe him too much for that."

"And we can't free him either," Regina pointed out. "Even if we could somehow neutralize Zelena's threat to start crushing hearts at random, Belle told us that Zelena used the dagger to command him not to leave town. If we try to… to… drive him over the town line, he'll have two choices: fight us or teleport away. I don't know how we can prevent either option. A sleeping curse? Drugs? Do you care to imagine how he'll react to either method if he realizes what we're up to? You… wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of his retaliation." Seeing the looks on the Nolans' faces she sighed. "When we learned that he was alive, Belle started researching ways that might allow him to resist the dagger. Granted, what with trying to determine what Zelena's been up to and exploring various other avenues, she hasn't had much time for that over the last few days, but she's shared what she was able to find out with me. It hasn't exactly been promising."

"Getting him out of town's the only possible solution, then?" David asked.

"Or returning his dagger to him," Regina confirmed. "Unfortunately. Silencing spells may have potential, I don't know. Belle was looking primarily at how to block the dagger, not how to stop the person wielding it from issuing commands. But there's no way test the effectiveness of one those spells without using it in the field, which means that someone needs to get close enough to Zelena. I'm not sure we can risk it."

"You're trying to tell us he's in her power and there's nothing we can do about it," Snow said. "I don't want to accept that."

"There might not be a choice, at the moment," Regina said. "Once Emma recovers, assuming she's able to defeat Zelena, there'll be more possibilities. Meanwhile… I'm open to suggestions, but it looks like Rumple's on his own." She sighed. "At least, thanks to him, Zelena can't cast her spell."

Snow frowned. "Wait. How exactly does that work?"

"The time-travel spell?" Regina blinked. "Apparently, she needs a brain, a heart—"

Snow waved her hand impatiently. "No, I'm sorry. What I mean is… Zelena went to a lot of trouble to get our baby. There had to be a reason for it, but… Okay, I'm not sure how to phrase this..." She frowned, thinking. "I guess… All right. If someone had watched me cast the Dark Curse, they would have seen me crush David's heart. But without knowing all the details," her words were coming faster now, "that person wouldn't know whether I'd crushed it because the curse instructions stated that the caster had to crush their spouse's heart, or that they needed to… to… seek out a man who was a shepherd before he became a prince, or… or an identical twin who'd lost his brother. Without instructions, they wouldn't necessarily understand that the… important thing about the ingredient is that it be the heart of the thing—o-or person—that the caster loves most." Her eyebrows lifted. "So, I guess, that's my question. What is it specifically that makes our child one of the ingredients for the spell?"

Regina frowned. "I don't know. Zelena wants to murder your mother. Maybe she needs a baby of Queen Eva's bloodline…" She caught herself. "No. That doesn't make sense. The spell's focus would be on the travel itself, not what she means to use it for."

"Well, our child is the product of true love," David said.

Snow nodded. "That's what I think it is, too. But the problem with that is… we can't be the only True Loves in Storybrooke. Zelena might want to try again with a different baby." She frowned. "If there is one."

Regina's eyes widened. "If that's what it is—and, for what it's worth, I think you might be right—then I think that Zelena may already _have_ another baby to use. If you recall, right before you were about to announce your pregnancy, when Zelena showed up…"

"Aurora!" Snow gasped.

"Wait. Wouldn't she have given birth by now?" David asked.

"There are spells to delay that kind of thing," Regina pointed out. "More to the point, we don't know if the baby has to be a newborn."

"Zelena turned her into a monkey," Snow said. "She's probably been here all along. And right before she was changed, she was saying that she'd told Zelena about our return because Zelena was threatening her unborn child."

"I think we now have a pretty good idea what with," Regina nodded.

David clenched his fist around the wooden arm of his chair. "We'd better find Zelena, before she can cast that spell."

* * *

"May I ask you a question, please?" Aurora asked hesitantly.

Rumple lifted his head slightly and shrugged.

"Zelena said before that you had magic."

Rumple waited. "Is that your question, dearie?"

There was a moment's silence. Then wryly, "If you don't mind my asking several more after it, then I suppose it is."

"I have magic," he admitted. Then he added, "In case you're wondering why I haven't made any improvements to this place, she forbade me long ago from using it in here."

"But she ordered you to use it on me, when it's time."

"Yes."

Aurora was silent for longer this time. "This is my first child," she ventured. "I… understand that when the time comes, the pain will be... considerable. I was wondering if you could… do something to help with that."

Rumple considered her request. "Zelena did say that I might do as I liked with you." Her hand flew to her lips and he suddenly realized how his statement could be understood in a slightly different context. He shook his head. "I didn't mean…" He took another breath. "I've done many dark deeds in my life, but never that. I was only trying to work out whether I could do as you ask, within the framework of Zelena's commands. I believe it might be possible."

"Will you, then? Please?"

In different circumstances, he would have been overjoyed to be asked for a favor from the likes of her. A princess—perhaps a queen—and desperate for his help. It never hurt to have one such as she in his debt. But in their current circumstances… Well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd waived his customary price. "If such is within my power, I shall," he nodded.

"Thank you." Aurora smiled tremulously. "Zelena has," she continued softly, "made me believe I had no choice but to betray a friend. She's turned me into a monster. And, as much as I hope for rescue, I have to accept the possibility that it may not come and that she will take my baby. Everything I've seen of her tells me that she enjoys seeing others suffer. With your help, perhaps I can at least deprive her of some small amusement." She shook her head. "I suppose it's not much of a victory, but if it's the only one I can claim, it will need to suffice."

He could understand _that_ sentiment completely. "Buck up, dearie," he said, forcing a jocularity he didn't feel into his voice. "Your child's not here, yet. Zelena hasn't cast her spell. And there are a number of heroes in this town with a penchant for turning up in the nick of time."

Aurora pondered that for a moment. "I… don't mean to sound impertinent, but would you think the less of me if I were to hope that they arrived a bit sooner than that?"

Rumple snorted.

* * *

Emma wasn't sure how long she lay in bed. She could hear her parents and Regina talking close by, though she couldn't quite make out what they were saying. Henry was reading to her. She was pretty sure that it was from the storybook. She thought that she should probably get up, but she didn't want to move. In fact, she wasn't sure if she could. She just wanted to lie where she was, under the blankets, with the sun on her face…

The sun on her face… Wait. What time was it? And… was she actually wearing _jeans_ in bed? Something was wrong. She tried to tune out Henry reading the probably-true-but-decidedly-unorthodox version of "The Princess and the Pea," and strained to hear what the others were saying. Something about Rumpelstiltskin. And… _Aurora_? The sun was very bright and she squeezed her eyes more tightly shut.

"Mom?" Henry had noticed. And then, more loudly "Mom! Everyone, I think she's waking up."

Emma groaned. "Not so loud, kid. What time is it?"

She heard several sets of running feet and cracked her eyes open a fraction to see everyone clustered about her.

"Here," Regina said, thrusting a cup at her. There was a straw in it. "Blue said that you should drink this when you woke up. It will help."

Emma took a tentative sip and grimaced. "Blue made this?" she asked. "With _light_ magic?"

"I imagine so," Regina replied. "She brought it with her when she came to heal you. You need to drain the cup."

Emma wasn't sure what she'd just drunk, but the taste alone was enough to clear her mind. "Seriously? Have you tried this stuff?"

"No, but then, I never tried slicing hailstones, unraveling a whirlwind, and running a quarter mile over rough terrain in succession," Regina informed her tartly. "Rumple sent Belle and your baby brother over the town line, so I'll leave to your imagination what Zelena's probably doing to him now. And we've every reason to believe that she has another baby in mind for the spell. Now drink up, savior!"

Emma gave her a startled look. "Can I, at least, have some water to get the taste out of my mouth when I'm done?"

"I'll get it," David ran for the sink.

"Belle phoned us from Passamaquoddy a couple of hours ago," Snow interjected. "They're both fine." She smiled. "Although she hopes to be back here before people there start wondering how it is she's arrived with a baby that can't be hers."

Emma had been regarding the cup as though it were a live snake, but she smiled at the news. Her smile fell away suddenly. "Wait. How could Gold have…?"

David returned with a mug of water, which he set down on the night table. "From what I overheard him telling Belle, Zelena gave him a command that was… open to interpretation. He took advantage."

"But Zelena used the dagger to keep him on this side of the line. You mean he…" Emma's eyes grew wide. Somewhere, somehow, Gold had found the courage to defy Zelena, despite knowing that the escape he'd offered to Belle and the baby would be denied him; despite his surely having guessed the sort of consequences the witch was liable to exact for his action. And meanwhile, Emma reflected, here she was, lying in bed and making silly excuses for not taking the medicine that would get her back on her feet, so that she could beat the witch once and for all. A wave of shame washed over her and she took a deep breath, steeling herself. Then she raised the straw to her lips and drained the cup in three sips. The liquid was bitter and brackish, with an oily, grainy texture that almost made her retch. But her lethargy vanished almost immediately and she felt her magic pulsing within her once more. She reached for the water and gulped it down quickly.

"Okay," she said, sitting up straighter. "Catch me up. I think I'm ready to hear the long version."

* * *

"I…" Aurora's face was very pale. "I think it must be time."

Rumple pulled himself to his feet and crossed the short distance to where she was sitting. "Let me see. With your permission, your highness," he added in a tone devoid of mockery.

Wide-eyed, the princess nodded and Rumple placed his hands on her belly. "Have you only started to experience contractions?"

Aurora nodded again. "I mean… I've been feeling them now and again for the last few hours, but they're starting to come more regularly now."

Rumple was no doctor. He'd been hobbling back from the Ogre's War when Milah had given birth. And, while he'd been present at the birthings of various farm animals—such occurrences had happened with some regularity in a peasant village—this was somewhat different. He tried to send his magic into the princess, but it refused to cooperate. He sighed. "I was afraid of that."

"Pardon?" Then she gasped and leaned forward.

Rumple shook his head. "Zelena commanded me not to use magic inside this cage. She made an exception to allow me to deliver your child. But since pain relief isn't essential to the process of childbirth, it appears that I am unable yo call on my power to invoke it."

Aurora smiled bitterly. "She thought of everything, didn't she?"

"Perhaps not," Rumple said slowly. "From what Zelena said, your child is full-term. It will do no harm if it arrives a few hours sooner. I know you're aware that a heart can be magically removed. I believe that it would be the same principle if I were to…" he reached toward her belly and nodded when he saw that she took his meaning. "And for that, there's no reason to wait." There were other factors to consider, as well. If there were no complications with the birth, he probably could let the child come on its own. But if problems were to arise, he knew full well that he was out of his depth. He might be able to conjure up every piece of medical equipment necessary, but he wouldn't know how or when to use it. Should anything go wrong, the matter would still end with his having to pull the child out magically.

"I should caution you of one thing," he added. "Zelena's made it quite clear that the only reason you have value to her is because of the baby you're carrying. Once it arrives, she may not see any purpose in keeping you alive. Understand that if you give birth now, it could mean that your death would come sooner than it otherwise might."

Aurora regarded him. "Are you a physician?"

"I've made some study of the various branches of medicine," Rumple admitted. "But I am not."

"Nor a midwife?"

He shook his head, smiling thinly. "No."

Aurora nodded. "Then I court death, regardless. Well, then," she said a bit too brightly. "Which method gives my baby his best chance?"

"Under the circumstances?" Rumple asked. He stretched out a hand toward her belly again.

She nodded. "Very well," she said, clutching hold of the mesh with both hands, as he drew slightly closer.

"There may yet be some pain," he admitted. "Though I'm confident it will be less than you would experience the other way." Now his magic leaped to his bidding. At his mental order, purple smoke enveloped his hands, scouring away dirt and other impurities. He took a deep breath. Then he thrust his hand into her belly. The princess gasped and squeezed her eyes shut.

Rumple had no problem locating the baby. The difficulty, he quickly realized it, would be in extracting it without causing internal damage. Pondering, Rumple took several more deep breaths and realized that Aurora was doing the same, nearly in tandem with him. "Am I hurting you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "N-no. It just feels… odd."

He wasn't surprised. "Your child has a strong heartbeat," he said, trying to reassure her. She managed a shaky smile. He took another breath. Then he used his magic to envelope the baby, creating a sphere as thin as a coat of paint, which surrounded child and placenta. "I think I have it all," he murmured.

"Pardon?" Aurora asked with some alarm, as her eyes flew open.

Rumple sighed. "There's more in your womb than just a child, dearie. It all needs to come out. I believe it will, but… assuming you survive until help arrives, I'd suggest you consult a physician to be certain, once you're free." He waited for her to nod. "I believe it would be wisest to use both hands," he said under his breath. The princess whimpered as he reached in a second time. And then she gasped as he gently extracted an irregularly-shaped purple bubble and set it down carefully in the basket of straw. Rumple gave her a reassuring smile and passed one hand over the bubble. It dissolved, revealing its contents to both of them.

Magic severed the cord from the afterbirth and magic cleaned the child of blood and other fluids. A moment later a thin cry pierced the air. "It… it's a boy," Rumple said, picking up the baby and holding it out to her.

Aurora broke into a huge smile and reached out to take him with a laugh of wonder. Before she could lay hands on her son, though, a cloud of green drifted in through the mesh and swirled about the baby. When it cleared, Rumple and Aurora were alone in the cage.

Wow," Zelena said, standing on the other side of the mesh and holding the infant. "I admit I'm impressed." She smiled cheerfully. "Right. I'd say I've been more than patient up until now, but it's past time my spell was cast." Balancing the baby over her shoulder with one hand, she unsheathed the dagger with the other. "Come along, Rumple."

Compelled by the dagger, his magic surrounded him and transported him outside the cage to stand next to the witch. Zelena spared a final glance for the princess, who had gone quite pale.

"I'll attend to you later, my pretty. For now, try to get some sleep. I'm told you're quite good at that." Then, in a more strident tone, "Let's go, Rumple. Chop chop."

Aurora managed to maintain her composure until she was certain that the witch was out of earshot. Then the shock that she'd been suppressing mingled with stress and grief and she broke down in tears.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Some dialogue from S3; E20 (Kansas) has been inserted in this chapter.

 **Chapter Twenty-One**

Not one of the five heroes was surprised to realize that the locator spell—poured on an argyle sweater that Regina would have once assumed Rumple would never be caught dead wearing—was leading them back toward the witch's farmhouse.

"Really," Hook remarked, "we could have driven and been here faster."

Regina waved a hand at the sweater floating in the air before them. "You really think I could drive with _that_ hovering in front of my windshield? It's only flying at around three miles an hour. Besides," she added as the sweater turned off the road and began drifting across an empty field that looked as though it hadn't been mowed since the previous curse, "my Mercedes isn't designed for all-terrain."

Emma glanced over her shoulder. Her mother was lagging behind. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Snow gave her an apologetic smile. "I did just give birth yesterday," she pointed out. "I thought I was doing okay—and Dr. Whale agreed; that's why he released me this morning—but I guess I'm not back to normal, yet."

"We're almost there," David reassured her.

At that moment, the sweater made an abrupt U-turn and headed back toward town.

"Oh, for… Someone please tell me we're on Candid Camera," Emma exclaimed.

David blinked. "How…?"

"He must have teleported," Regina snapped. "Come on! Wait." She turned to Snow. "Robin's camp is only about a mile or so ahead. Why don't you head there and tell them we might need reinforcements? You can rest there and we'll come back for you later." Regina's smile dimmed slightly. "Always assuming that there _is_ a later."

Snow nodded. "Henry's right," she said. "You _can_ use light magic. The two of you together have to be strong enough."

"We hope," Emma murmured.

Snow smiled. "Exactly."

"So, we're walking back to town," Hook said flatly. "You know, by the time we get there, it may already be too late."

Regina considered that. Then she raised her hand aloft. The sweater stopped its slow flight. For a moment it seemed to hang indecisively. Then it flew back to Regina. "Let's hope we're right about where Rumple's headed," she said, "and that my sister didn't send him somewhere else en route. I'll transport us back to the center of town and we can turn this," she gave the sweater a gentle shake, "loose again and see where it leads us."

"How will Robin know where to find you?" Snow asked.

Regina sighed. "Well, he's pretty good at finding a trail, but if we're headed into another witch fight, I… don't think that's going to be a problem. They'll probably see the light show in Passamaquoddy."

* * *

"There," Zelena pointed with one hand, while holding the baby with the other. "Dig."

Rumple had no choice but to obey. The dagger couldn't be fought and he'd given up trying. It wasn't as though his fiercest efforts had ever even slowed his compliance. It was far less frustrating to carry out the witch's commands without attempting to resist them and try not to think about what he was doing or why. Still, something must have shown on his face, because Zelena's expression hardened. "You think I'll fail," she said.

"I think destiny is destiny." The pattern he was digging resembled a compass—or a shooter's target: concentric circles, quartered by a cross aligned with the four cardinal points. Zelena had placed shallow bowls at the northern, southern, and eastern points. There was a wicker basket with a flannel blanket at the west. Rumple really tried not to think about what that was for. He didn't like harming children as a rule, and he _had_ just helped to bring this one into the world. He had no desire to help it—the task was easier if he didn't think of the baby as a 'he'—to leave.

Zelena laughed. "You're wrong," she retorted. "I can change it." Her casket was open now and in it, Rumple could see the golden brain she'd made from his spun straw, a heart—Regina's, he presumed, although he would have expected hers to be far darker than the specimen before him—and a sword hilt. He kept digging and tried not to notice when she lifted the brain out of the casket and put it in the bowl at the north point. "Once I fix the past," Zelena continued, "my mother will keep me. Regina will never have been born, and I'll get everything she ever had." As if for emphasis, she set the heart down in the bowl at the south point. "With the right ingredients, I can do anything." She spared a glance for the floor. "Make sure the pattern is six inches deep throughout," she ordered, holding the dagger.

He had no measuring stick, but the magic understood and would compel him to dig until he met the specification. It would take some time. The packed dirt floor was hard and Zelena seemed to think that the digging needed to be done through sheer manual labor. Rumple had no idea whether it was necessary for the spell, or whether she simply delighted in keeping him from using his magic to make the task easier. Still, as his shovel blade dipped once more into soil, he grunted, "Whether it works or not is irrelevant, dearie." He lifted the shovelful of earth and tossed it well outside the spell area. "Because," he continued, digging down again, "no matter what you change of your past, one thing shall remain the same." He tossed another shovelful away and smiled unpleasantly as he kept digging, dimly aware that Zelena had set the sword hilt in the eastern bowl. Were it not for the dagger, he might have considered whether the satisfaction of flinging the next shovelful of dirt at _her_ outweighed the punishment she'd certainly exact from him. Sadly, there could be no such defiance with the dagger in play. He had only verbal resistance at his disposal—at least, unless she got it into her head to forbid him even that avenue. Meanwhile, he was still free to goad her. He noticed that she was waiting for him to finish his thought. His smile grew wider as he did. "You will still be yourself. _That_ is a fate you shall never escape."

For a moment, her face turned, not green, but red—and he wondered whether he'd pushed her too far after all. But she only smiled and replied sweetly, "We shall see." And then, with deceptive mildness, she added, "Dig faster, dearie," raising the dagger once more.

As his already aching limbs struggled to obey, Rumple wondered whether his jibe had truly been worth it.

* * *

"Did we overshoot?" David asked, as he watched the sweater drift back toward the town line.

Hook sighed. "Perhaps she only sent him off on some errand, and he's returned to her cellar."

"No," Emma said, "wait." She pointed across the street at Granny's. The sweater had just veered off abruptly in a new direction. "It's headed toward the lake!"

Regina laid a cautioning hand on her jacket. "Don't get too excited," she warned. "We have to stick together—you and I in particular. Your magic…"

Emma stopped struggling. "I know, I know. I'm not back to full strength and our best chance is to work together."

"Which means not running too far ahead," Regina said pointedly. "If you go charging in and Zelena gets the drop on you… I don't know if I'm up for this." She rubbed her lower back and winced. "I've faced her three times, and each time, she's wiped the floor with me."

"I thought the first time was a draw," Emma protested.

Regina shook her head. "It was only a draw because she didn't get my heart that time." She pointed to the clock tower. "Notice anything different?"

Emma's jaw dropped. She didn't know how she hadn't seen it before. "The clock face…?" she said faintly.

"Zelena tossed me through it. _After_ flinging me into Doc's Miata."

"She must really have it in for that car," Emma muttered, remembering what the hail had done to it.

"I think your focus is misplaced," Regina snapped. "It wasn't a draw, it was a," her voice grew softer, "…a sound defeat. The only thing I did right was leave my heart with Robin before the fight, so when she beat me, she still couldn't take it. She got it in the end," she added bleakly. "It just took her another couple of days."

Regina's hand was still on her arm. Emma covered it with her own. "Hey. It's not the end, yet. It can't be," she said, trying to inject a bit of levity. "It'd be happy."

Regina exhaled noisily, but her lips twitched in a brief smile. "I think that sweater's getting too far ahead of us," she said, sounding a bit more like herself. "We should catch up."

"See," Emma said, "this is the kind of thing I miss. A disembodied sweater goes floating through town and," she gestured toward the passersby on the street, who were calmly going about their business, "nobody even bats an eye in this town. I mean, I know New Yorkers have a reputation for being jaded, but I don't think they're _this_ jaded. Let's go."

* * *

The sweater floated clear across the lake. The heroes watched with dismay. "Should we conjure up a boat?" Emma asked.

Regina shook her head. "I'm not even sure teleporting was wise," she answered. "It's going to take a _lot_ to beat Zelena. The more we expend now, the less we'll be able to call on later."

"Had you not transported us," Hook pointed out, "we'd likely still be on the road back to town. And we all might have arrived here too late and too weary to do anything. Besides, you do have a bit of additional help."

Regina tilted her head to one side. Her arched eyebrows spoke volumes.

"Hey, come on," David grinned. "If we need someone to draw Zelena's fire… Or Gold's, for that matter... I think he'll do fine."

Hook scowled. "Just see if I ever attempt words of encouragement again," he muttered.

"Guys," Emma held up her hands, "enough. It's like Neverland. It's going to take all of us."

"You don't know that," Regina said.

"Do you know it won't?" When Regina was silent, Emma continued, "We'd better figure out the fastest way around the lake."

David looked from left to right. Then he frowned. "Do you hear hoof beats?"

They turned to see a horse with a cloaked rider cantering toward them. As he drew nearer, the rider lowered his hood.

"Robin?" Regina exclaimed. Then, smiling, "Where did you get the horse?"

Robin smiled back. "Apologies, Milady. After Snow delivered her message, I thought that haste was of the essence. The horse was grazing in a pasture along the way and, well, I _am_ an outlaw…"

That got a genuine laugh from Regina. "We'll deal with that afterwards. Let's go." She pointed across the lake, to where Rumple's sweater hovered before a large wooden structure. "I believe they're in there. At least, Rumple should be." She sighed. "I'm not sure whether I should be transporting us across when we're going to be heading into a battle as soon as we get there. I suppose we'd best go around."

* * *

It took the better part of an hour for them to reach the opposite shore and another half hour to reach the warehouse, but Regina wasn't concerned. The air around them was charged with magical energy, but it felt dormant, as though it was still waiting for something. "Quietly," she cautioned, as they approached.

The warehouse doors were open. Regina suspected that only the magical wards that Zelena would have placed before casting her spell prevented the sweater from flying inside and losing them the element of surprise. Flames of silver, orange, yellow and red swirled from the spell pattern cut into the floor. Actually, she realized, that wasn't correct. The flames originated from the four objects surrounding the circle, one of which was a baby!

Zelena's back was to them. Regina didn't think she was aware of their presence. "You see," she was saying to Rumple, "once I change the past, you and I shall meet under different circumstances. And Rumple, you _will_ choose me, and I will be enough."

"No, you won't," Rumple replied with calm certainty. His gaze flicked past her for a moment and his eyes widened slightly. Regina knew he'd spotted them, though he gave no other outward sign as he continued speaking. "And no matter where you go in time," a menacing edge came into his voice, "I will find a way to kill you."

Zelena chuckled. "Don't worry, dearie," she smiled. "Once all this is over, you won't remember a thing."

David was done with waiting. "It's not over yet!" he shouted, blowing their cover. Regina hid her irritation. She'd been about to announce their presence anyway.

Zelena turned calmly to face them. "And who'd going to stop me?" she demanded. "Your savior's looking a little wobbly, there."

Emma had spotted the baby. "Go," she told her father. "Get him. We've got your back."

Robin smiled as he moved past Regina. "And I've got your heart."

Regina gave a slight nod. When she spoke, it was with the authority she'd wielded both as mayor and as queen. Whatever fears and worries she had, she seemed to have left them outside. "Zelena," she said in ringing tones, "stop _now_. We're not going to let you succeed."

Zelena chuckled. Then she held up the dagger. "Rid—"

Emma whipped out a small leather pouch and hurled it at the witch. It had travelled, perhaps, half the distance, when Zelena raised a calm hand and the pouch vanished in a puff of green. The smell of smoke mingled with the fragrances of spearmint and catnip. Zelena blinked. "Silencing powder?" she asked, sounding amused. "I'm surprised you didn't try a bucket of water." She directed a magical blast at Emma, who was barely able to conjure a shield in time. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed that Hook and Robin had their hands full dealing with more monkeys.

"Regina!" Emma exclaimed. "Help me keep her off balance!" White lightning arced from her fingertips and streaked toward the witch. Zelena raised a shield of her own with one hand. With the other, she traced an intricate pattern in the air. Four winged monkeys materialized and formed a tight circle around her. Emma's jaw set. Gold had been right about Zelena's fighting style, but the holes in the defensive formation were a lot bigger than the light bulbs he'd had her targeting—to say nothing of the Lite-Brite pegs Regina had employed. She sent another lightning attack toward the witch, missing the monkeys with ample room to spare.

Most of her magic was deflected by Zelena's shield, but some of it got through and the witch cried out. Then, with an angry snarl, she waved the monkeys aside and aimed a bolt of pure magic at Emma's shield.

Emma gasped at the impact. Her shield held, but the force jarred her arm and she felt it from fingertips to shoulder. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Regina stagger back, purple smoke dissipating from the mayor's fingertips. "Regina!" she called. "Light magic!"

"I'm trying!" Regina shot back.

When another of Emma's lightning strikes caused Zelena's shield to waver, the witch aimed a powerful blast at the ground beneath the savior's feet. Emma staggered and fell backwards, landing on her rear, but she kept her own shield up.

Zelena regarded her furiously. The witch wasn't laughing or mocking now. "Perhaps I can't attend to you as I'd like," she snapped, "but you can't protect them all, savior. Before I destroy you, I'll have the Dark One destroy each of your companions."

She raised the dagger again and pointed it at David. "Rid me of that pest! But protect the child!"

"Dad!" Emma instinctively flung a second shield up to surround her father. Gold's hand began to pulsate with a deep purple light as he bore down on the barrier. As he did, Emma felt something pressing on her skull.

Gold regarded her, his face expressionless. "If I could stand down," he told her, "I would. Get the dagger. Then the Dark One will be on your side."

 _Because Rumpelstiltskin, the man behind the Dark One, already was._ Unfortunately, if she couldn't get the dagger, that wouldn't help her. She pushed out at Gold, not with lightning, but with a modified shield, a sort of magical airbag. It slammed him into the wall of the warehouse, knocking the wind out of him.

Meanwhile, Regina had taken advantage of Zelena's distraction and tossed another fireball. The witch turned at the last moment and batted it back, forcing Regina onto the defensive.

"You can't stop me," Zelena gloated. "Kill the prince, Rumple! And make sure the savior sees every—!"

Emma's lightning strike found the witch at the same time as one of Regina's attacks. Zelena opened her mouth again, but no sound emerged.

"I don't need silencing powder," Regina smirked.

"Unfortunately," Gold said, already recovered and dissolving the last bit of her airbag, "that won't be enough. I…" He blinked. And then, a faint smile came to his face. "I have no choice," he said, as he reached into his pocket and held up a small bottle. "I trust y-you know what this will do."

Emma recognized the bottle immediately. And almost as swiftly, she realized that, in all likelihood, Gold's stammer had been a deliberate message. _I trust **ye**. You know what this will do._ What he was asking was risky. If she miscalculated, if she missed, she could do him some serious damage. But she'd been hitting smaller targets than this for a while now. Gold knew that. Moreover, he'd just watched her attack Zelena through a crowd of monkeys. He trusted her to hit this target, too.

She nodded to him. "Yes," she admitted. "I do." Then she pointed at the bottle and a bolt of lightning shot forward from her index finger.

The bottle didn't shatter, so much as explode, spraying its contents over several square feet. Most of the ink splattered on Gold's suit—Zelena _would_ have to have given him Armani today. Some just splashed to the ground. But a good amount landed on Gold's face and hands, and it only took a single drop of squid ink on bare skin to immobilize someone magical. As he felt his limbs lock into place, he smiled broadly. "Now, savior," he cried, "get the dagger!"

Grinning back, Emma whirled to face the witch… and moved directly into the path of one of Zelena's blasts. She tried to raise her shield, but this time, she was too slow and the blast lifted her several feet into the air and slammed her entire upper body into a support post. Emma's head knocked against the solid oak beam hard enough for her to see stars, before she slumped to the ground, her arms and legs feeling like rubber. Her heart was pounding. Her head was spinning. She felt a warm trickle on the back of her neck and when she put her fingers to the spot, they came away bloody. Above her, Zelena wasn't smiling anymore. Instead she looked on Emma with loathing. "You," she snarled—evidently Regina's silencing spell hadn't lasted long. "Do you really think this stops me? Look at you, savior. You're weak, powerless, and all but defenseless. The Dark One will recover from the ink and then, I'll cast my spell anew. Pity you won't live to see it—"

A blast of purple force flew at Zelena, but she turned and blocked it with ease. "That won't do you any good, Sis," she taunted. Magic seized Regina by the throat and lifted her into the air. "Only light magic can harm me. And you're as dark as they come. It was your destiny to be this way. And will also be your undoing!"

Regina's shoulders, which had already begun to slump in defeat, suddenly straightened and she lifted her head, her eyes blazing despite her predicament. "Don't… tell me what I can be!" she choked out.

Zelena only laughed. "I tried to be good once," she chuckled, "but it wasn't in the cards. This is who I am and it's who you are!"

Suddenly, the witch's eyes widened. Emma's head was still throbbing and it took her a minute to process what was going on. Then it struck her. The magic flashing from Regina's hands was no longer smoky purple… but glowing white. Regina smiled then, and it wasn't a pleasant smile. "You're wrong… Sis."

"What are you doing?" Zelena gasped.

Regina was still smiling. "Changing." Then she lashed out and knocked Zelena off her feet. The dagger flew from her grasp and fell to the ground. Regina bent down and picked it up.

"What?" the witch gaped at her. "How?"

"I make my own destiny," Regina replied, a trifle smugly. Then she bent over her sister and tore the green gemstone choker from the witch's neck.

A green haze hung over Zelena for a moment. Then it vanished and the portal flames died. Around them, the monkeys began changing back and the baby began to cry. Hook reached over and lifted him from the basket. David ran to bend over Emma.

"I think I'm okay," she murmured. "Just… winded." She tried to rise and winced. "And dizzy."

"Don't try to move," David urged her, stripping off his jacket.

"Is the baby all right?" Robin asked.

Hook nodded. "It should be fine, once we find Aurora."

"Aurora?" one of the former monkeys echoed. His eyes opened very wide. "Is this… my child?"

"I suppose you're Phillip?" Hook guessed. When the other man nodded, he smiled. "Yes, I believe it must be." He passed the baby over. Phillip's confusion yielded to wonder as he slipped his little finger into his son's palm.

Regina stood over her sister. "You've failed," she said. Seeing Zelena's eyes darting in all directions, she shook her head. "You're not going anywhere."

"At least," Gold spoke, his voice thick with hatred, "not until this wears off. Then…"

Regina shook her head. "Then nothing," she snapped. "This ends now." Her eyes flicked meaningfully down at the dagger.

"After everything she's done," Gold exclaimed, fury and disbelief mingling in his eyes, "you're going to protect her?"

Regina regarded him, her face calm. "Good magic stopped her. And good magic doesn't exact vengeance."

Fury won. "She killed my son!" Gold nearly screamed.

Regina shook her head. "How many lives have we taken, trying to get what we want?"

"You can't be serious," Gold told her flatly.

"I am," Regina replied. "Heroes don't kill."

"So now you're a hero."

She smiled. "Today I am."

David pulled out his phone. "I'm calling an ambulance," he said. "I saw how hard you hit that post. We need to get you checked out."

Emma closed her eyes. "Okay," she said, too spent to argue. "What about Gold?"

David looked over his shoulder to where Rumple stood helplessly fuming. "I'll tell them they might want to send two."

"I don't need…" Gold started to snap.

"It's a good idea," Regina said. She weighed the dagger experimentally in her hand. Then she raised it and looked at Gold. "Let them look you over. Answer their questions honestly. And don't leave the hospital until Whale or some other doctor lets you know that," she hesitated, "they don't feel a need to keep you there any longer."

"Regina…" Emma protested weakly. "Don't…"

Regina looked searchingly at her for a moment. "I really think it's best this way. If Zelena did anything lasting to him, it's better we catch it now."

"Not like this," Emma insisted.

Gold's expression was murderous. "So, this is how you're playing it, your majesty?" His voice was cold.

Regina nodded. "It's for your own good," she informed him.

"And who appointed you arbiter of what's best 'for my own good'?"

Regina regarded him for a moment, her face expressionless. Then she walked away, slipping the dagger into her belt as she did.

* * *

After that, everything seemed to muddle together. Emma knew that her father was talking gently to her, pressing something soft to the back of her head—probably his jacket. Hook was there, too. Both men were reassuring her that she was going to be all right, and that everything was going to be fine, but whether from the blow to her head or from her fading adrenaline high coupled with yesterday's exertion, she found that she couldn't focus on anything.

Then the ambulances arrived and paramedics helped her onto a stretcher. She saw the second crew doing the same for Gold. They seemed to be having a hard time maneuvering his limbs. Hands picked up her stretcher and carried her toward the waiting vehicle. As she passed by, she flinched at Gold's thunderous expression. She couldn't blame him.

On the way to the hospital, her eyelids seemed to grow heavier and heavier. But before she drifted off, she remembered the look on his face and knew that she couldn't just leave things as they were. Something would have to be done.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

She didn't remember much after that. She knew that when they'd reached the hospital, Doctor Whale had been at her side fairly quickly, asking her questions about whether she felt dizzy, tired, or nauseous. Dimly, she remembered that those symptoms were concussion indicators, and supposed that it made sense he'd be asking them; she had hit her head pretty hard, but all she wanted to do was rest. Her father was at her side and soon after, her mother joined him, but it was all hazy. And then, Blue was touching her forehead and suddenly, everything was clear again.

"Rest, savior," the fairy said gently. "You've had a time, haven't you?"

Emma blinked at her. "You're not going to give me more of that Red Bull-cod liver oil stuff, are you?"

Blue's laugh was merry, but Emma found it grating. "There's no need," she said. "Just rest. Give yourself time to heal."

Doctor Whale moved into her field of vision again. "You were lucky," he said. "You've got a mild concussion and a few bumps and bruises, but I don't think there's any serious damage done. Just to be safe, though, we'll be keeping you here overnight and we'll have to wake you up every few hours to make sure we didn't miss anything." Her worry must have shown in her face, because he added, "Honestly, I don't think you're likely to slip into a coma; the tests don't show anything serious. But if anything slipped past us, we should know within the next twenty-four hours."

Emma frowned. "Can I heal myself?"

Blue was smiling as she shook her head. "At this point, savior, I think you're too depleted. If you use magic to restore magic…"

"It'll be like trying to pay off an overdraft with a check drawn on the same account," Emma nodded. She sighed. "Okay. Uh… if I feel up to it later, will it be okay if I walk around a bit?"

Doctor Whale gave her a slight frown. "Let's see how you feel later."

* * *

Emma was tired, but after the third time that Whale woke her, she couldn't fall back to sleep. She was awake enough now to find it hard to get comfortable with an IV in her arm.

The battle replayed in her mind. She closed her eyes, but that only sharpened her recollection. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Zelena had been controlling Gold with the dagger. If he'd ever needed an excuse to really let his darker side take over, he'd had it in spades for the last couple of days. Instead, he'd managed to get her newborn baby brother and Belle to safety. He'd given her whatever advice he could, practically under Zelena's nose—even if he'd had to make it sound like he was gloating over what was to come. And when given an order to kill her father, he'd found a way to thwart it.

He'd trusted her. He'd trusted her to understand what he wanted. He'd trusted her to hit her target and not harm him in the process. He'd trusted her to have his back when he couldn't have hers.

And she hadn't been able to do a damned thing when Regina picked up his dagger.

She wasn't feeling guilty; she was feeling furious. And confused. Regina had used light magic today, light magic powerful enough to defeat Zelena. If Emma had needed proof positive that the formerly Evil Queen was now a hero, she had it. And yet, almost in the same breath, Regina had turned around and used the dagger against Gold. How was that good? It was practically…

It reminded her of something she'd been thinking when she'd been reading _The Patchwork Girl of Oz_ , the other day. At least, she didn't need to slog through any more of those titles now. She had other things on her mind.

She was willing to bet that Gold hadn't mentioned to Whale that he was here under duress. If Whale realized that, then surely he'd be willing to release Gold sooner, rather than later. Gold could heal himself, after all. And if Whale was keeping him for observation only, Emma was ready to volunteer to keep an eye on him. How badly was Gold hurt anyway? She wondered whether Whale would tell her. How much could he disclose before HIPAA kicked in? Wait. Would Whale even feel bound by HIPAA? Storybrooke really was its own little universe; Emma doubted that HHS had ever set foot here or would know how to find the town if they wanted to.

She could get her parents involved, too. And Belle would certainly be willing…

Gold would probably tell her to stay out it. He was used to dealing with his problems on his own. But it didn't have to be that way, and she was acting in his best interest.

 _Like Regina was?_

The question seemed to reverberate in her mind. Immediately, Emma tried to banish it. That was different. Regina was using the dagger to force him to get help he probably wouldn't have sought, but needed.

 _He took that as a betrayal, and rightly so. And aren't you contemplating doing the same thing? Do you think that your not having the dagger makes it all okay?_

She was trying to look out for him.

 _By going behind his back?_

If she talked to him first, there was a good chance he'd tell her to stay out his affairs.

 _…_ _Which would kind of be his right._

She wanted to help.

 _So, you have good intentions. Regina probably did, too. Hell, your mother wasn't being malicious when she told Cora about Daniel. She also thought she was helping._

He needed someone to stick up for him.

 _Maybe. But are you sure? Or are you just assuming it based on your own history?_ You _needed someone to stick up for you when you were on the outside looking in. You're assuming that's what he wants right now. And maybe you're even right. But don't you think maybe you should ask him?_

He might say 'no'.

 _But you aren't sure._

It was better to ask forgiveness than permission.

 _Only if you're dealing with someone who's the forgiving type. And if you do what you're thinking and you're wrong… hasn't he already been hurt enough? And by people he trusted?_

The last point decided her. She'd talk to Gold, before she did anything. Her decision made, she closed her eyes and was asleep again almost immediately.

* * *

Her father was there when she woke up the next morning. "How are you doing?" he asked her.

Emma rubbed her eyes. "My back's still a little sore," she admitted with a pained smile, "but I'm feeling a lot better. Have you talked to Belle?"

David nodded. "She—and your brother—are probably coming back later today. It depends on whether your friend Pete can procure an infant car bed in Passamaquoddy, or if he's going to have to go elsewhere to find it. Now that it's not an emergency, Belle's a little nervous about carrying a baby on a dragon for thirty miles."

Emma remembered her own flying experience and nodded. Her smile faded. "What happened yesterday between Gold and Regina," she said urgently, "it wasn't right. You know that."

David became serious at once. "I do," he admitted. "But it's a little… complicated."

She struggled to sit up. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

David wasn't meeting her eyes anymore. "You know," he began hesitantly, "when King Leopold married Regina, Snow thought that she was getting a stepmother who would… almost be like a big sister to her. They're not that far apart in age. And Regina had recently saved her life. Snow never forgot that. Well," he smiled, "apart from a 28-year period when she wasn't quite herself, I mean."

Emma nodded impatiently. "I get that. And?"

"And now, that's behind them. This…" waved his hands about, "whole… thing… It's like a second chance to get things right. Now yesterday, Emma, you… you saw Regina use light magic, just like I did. She's reformed. She and Snow have made up. They're getting along great now when, a little more than a year ago, Regina was trying to frame Snow for murder and there was that whole… business with Cora. The town is finally coming together."

"Almost," Emma reminded him.

David slumped a bit in his chair. "Yeah." He took a breath and locked his gaze with hers once more. "All I'm saying is that I get the feeling that your mother isn't looking for a reason to fight Regina right now. Especially, with everything that's been happening. And what did Regina do that was so terrible? She ordered Gold not to kill Zelena and she ordered him to get checked out by a doctor. I don't call that evil."

Emma frowned. "Do you call it good?" she asked.

David shifted uncomfortably. "I… don't know. Maybe she went a little too far, but…"

"No. No maybe," Emma retorted. "It's great that Mom and Regina have reconciled. Seriously," she added. "I know that's major. But that doesn't make what Regina did to Gold okay. She needs to give him back his dagger. We both know that's the right thing to do."

"Um…" David was looking away again.

Emma's frown deepened. "What aren't you telling me?"

"We," David held up his hand and studied his fingernails intently, "we might want to wait a bit before we push that."

"Why?"

David took a deep breath. "I don't know if you're aware, but after Snow and I fought Regina for the kingdom, we captured her and held a council meeting to decide her fate. It wasn't an easy decision, but at the time, we felt that execution was our only option."

"I think I remember reading that part in Henry's book," Emma said slowly. A detail from another version of the fairy tale sprang into her head and she winced. "Tell me it wasn't going to be making her dance to death in white-hot iron shoes."

"No!" David exclaimed, shock evident in his expression. "Archer squad. But anyway, at the last minute, your mother granted her a reprieve and commuted her sentence to banishment. A few weeks later, the Evil Queen crashed our wedding and announced that she was going to enact what we now know was the Dark Curse. And I can assure you that over the next nine months, Snow and I regretted the mercy we'd shown her many times over. But, in hindsight, if we hadn't given Regina that chance…"

Emma sat up straighter. "Hold on. Please tell me you're not going where I think you're going with this."

"Regina wants to give her sister another chance."

"No."

David held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Zelena lost her magic when Regina took her pendant. She's powerless now. But obviously, if Gold doesn't have some sort of… check on him, then it won't be safe for her to walk down the street without risking getting turned into a snail or something."

"I don't believe this," Emma said furiously. "After what she did to Gold. After she took Belle's heart. Threatened two babies. Turned our friends into monkeys. The hail and the cyclone that tore up Main Street—"

"Good doesn't exact vengeance," David said quickly.

"Yeah? Where does it stand on justice?" She struggled to keep her anger under control. "I'm sorry. Regina doesn't get to decide this alone. It's as good as saying that everything Zelena did to everyone else doesn't matter."

David regarded her soberly for a long moment. "So, what exactly are you saying, Emma? That we should turn her over to Gold?"

Emma shook her head. "No. I'm saying…" she opened her eyes wide. "I'm saying, you had a council meeting to decide Regina's fate back in the Enchanted Forest? Fine. I think we should have another council meeting here. Bring in everyone Zelena attacked directly. I think we should all be in on the discussion. You, me, Mom, Regina, Gold, Little John, Bashful, Aurora—Did we find her, by the way?"

"Robin did. Zelena had moved the cage to a room in the farmhouse, but he found it. She was trying to use one of Gold's spun straws as a lock pick."

Emma smiled at that, but she turned serious again quickly. "You know, I know a little bit about what it's like to be on the outside looking in. When I was in fourth grade, I was so… desperate for friends that for half of November, I shared out all my Halloween candy. For two weeks, I was popular. Then I ran out, and that was the end of that. I tried again for the next three years, thinking that maybe if I'd just be a little bit nicer, pay a few more compliments, be a little louder, a little quieter, a little… I don't even know… that someone might still want to hang out with me, even after I gave out the last Laffy Taffy."

"Emma…"

She wasn't finished. "Eventually, I just… gave up. I stopped hoping for anything better and just… started looking out for number one. Until," she looked away for the first time, "well, until you and Mom showed me how to hope again, I guess. The thing is… I can't help wondering how I might have turned out, if I'd learned that if I didn't look out for myself, nobody would, but somehow I never stopped hoping I was wrong and… let's pretend I'd had magic back then. And," she took a deep breath, "stop me when you recognize where I'm going with this. I think I could have ended up as the kind of person who… might give away a set of walkie-talkies so a mother could bond with her son, or craft a charm to help keep a young boy's nightmares at bay, or—if I had the right background in magic or science, at least—come up with a cure for dreamshade poisoning—"

"Emma," David interrupted, "you're making him sound a lot more altruistic than he is. Yes, he does help us. A lot," he admitted, "but… he's the Dark One. With him, there's always a price."

"Not always." Emma met his eyes squarely once more. "I just gave you three times when there wasn't. And I didn't even have to get to the part where he taught me how to use my magic, sent my little brother over the town line, or got me to ink him before he could kill you."

This time, it was David who looked away.

"You know," Emma said slowly, "if Gold were anyone else, I think any one of those instances would have been enough for someone to say it was worth giving him a second chance."

"The walkie-talkies?" David asked in disbelief.

"It's more than Zelena did and everyone's practically rushing to roll out the welcome wagon for her. I mean, seriously, Gold gave us a fighting chance to defeat Zelena while he was in her power. What else does he have to do before people start to realize that maybe he's on our side— _die_? Oh. Wait," Emma continued bitterly, as David winced. "I guess that's not enough either. You know, on second thought, maybe we don't need to give him a second chance. Maybe we need to _get_ one. From him."

"Trusting him is dangerous."

"Trusting Zelena isn't?"

"I…" David had the grace to look embarrassed. "I'll discuss this with your mother."

Emma took another breath. "Before you do, let me talk things over with Gold." She smiled ruefully. "Maybe I made a strong case, but it won't mean much if this isn't something he wants, too." She shook her head. "And if he doesn't, there's not much point in taking things further." She looked down at her hospital gown. "Uh… do you think you could you find out what happened to my clothes? And maybe see if I can lose this IV already?"

* * *

Gold looked up when she knocked on the wall beside his open door. "Just wondered if you were up for some company," she greeted him.

His eyebrows rose at that. "Is there some new threat to the town, then? So soon?" he asked without a trace of sarcasm.

Emma came in, moved a chair next to his bed, and sank down into it with a sigh. "I'm not sure if I'm about to be responsible for one," she admitted. "How are you doing?"

Gold gave her a polite smile and hit the control to raise the head of his bed so that he was half-sitting. "I suppose I'm as well as I can be under the circumstances." The smile dropped and he looked at her intently. "What sort of threat?"

Emma hesitated. "I… I guess I'm trying to stop one feud from starting and hoping I don't accidently cause another one to resume," she admitted.

Gold sighed. "If Regina returns my dagger to me, I'll try to overlook what happened yesterday. She and I have been… battling each other for a long time. I suppose I can let her have her small victory."

"That's great," Emma replied, "but… while I can see how her hanging onto your dagger could spark a feud too, that wasn't what I was thinking of."

Surprise gave way to puzzlement and then to horror. "Zelena," he guessed. "She wants to pardon Zelena." Bitterness lent a sing-song quality to his voice. When Emma nodded, he sat up straight, his horror changing to fury. "After everything…" He started to say. "And yesterday. Oh, and now she'll want to keep the dagger, of course, because she knows what I'll do if—" He broke off and scowled at Emma. "Well? Why are you still here? Don't you have to help your mother plan a welcome banquet at Granny's? Get out!" Emma didn't move. "I know you're not deaf, Ms Swan. So," he continued menacingly, "why are you still here?"

For answer, Emma rose to her feet and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Because I think Regina's wrong. And I don't think Zelena's fate should be her call. And before you get too excited," she added, "I'm not saying it ought to be yours either. Not entirely." She outlined what she'd been discussing with her father. Under her fingers, she felt the tension in Gold's shoulder lessen.

"You realize," Gold said when he'd heard her out, "that your little plan isn't going to win you any friends. In fact, I shouldn't wonder if you'll lose a few when word gets around that you've joined forces with the Dark One."

"By that logic, you ought to be the most popular guy in town if word gets around that you're joining forces with the savior."

Gold snorted at that and Emma grinned. After a moment, he gave her a smile in return, tentative, but devoid of mockery.

"So, you're in, then?" Emma asked.

Gold nodded slowly. "I suppose I am."

"Any idea when they're releasing you?"

Gold shook his head. "I'm not certain."

"Oh. Well," Emma said, "I'm probably going to get to leave in an hour or so. Whale's just waiting to check some test results, but he's pretty sure there's no reason to keep me. And… David says that Belle and the baby will probably be home later today. What I mean is, if the only reason you're still here is because Whale doesn't think it's a good idea for you to be alone in case something goes wrong or… something, I mean… I don't mind keeping you company until Belle gets back."

Gold blinked in surprise. "That's a… Thank you, Emma. I may accept that offer."

Emma shook her head. "It's the least I can do after the way you came through for all of us. Really. And whether you admit it or not," she added, squeezing his shoulder, "getting my brother out of town and trusting me to hit the squid ink? That took guts. I don't care how scared you were. You did what you had to and in my book? It was pretty damned heroic. Don't you dare let anyone tell you different." She gave his shoulder another squeeze and released it. "I guess I'd better go check if those test results are in. I'll see you in a bit."

Before she turned to leave, she had the satisfaction of seeing his stunned expression change to one of pure wonder and she was grinning broadly as she made her way back to her room.

* * *

Her parents were waiting for her, along with Whale. All three were smiling. "Well, there's nothing physically wrong enough to warrant holding you here any longer," Whale remarked genially. "I'm prescribing you some painkillers; you're probably still going to be sore for a few days. Only take them if you can't manage without them," he added.

Emma nodded her thanks.

"Well," Whale said, "I'll just leave you alone to pack up and there'll be some paperwork at the desk for you, before you leave."

"I," Emma took a breath. "I might be sticking around for a little." She explained what she and Gold had been discussing.

Three sets of eyebrows shot up, but all Whale said was, "I guess I'll go see how he's doing now, then."

As soon as he left the room, her parents turned serious. "You…" Snow hesitated. "You never used to like doing things the hard way before. At least, not like this."

Emma forced her hackles back down. She'd already been in too many fights this week. She wasn't ready for another one if she could avoid it. "Do you think I'm wrong?" she asked evenly.

Snow shook her head. "I guess I just… didn't expect that you'd still be spending time with him, now that Zelena's been defeated."

Emma took a deep breath. "You probably don't want to go there," she cautioned, wondering if she was going to have that fight after all. "That's part of what's wrong with this place."

Snow frowned. "I'm not sure I understand," she admitted.

"Okay," Emma said, trying to keep her tone even. "When I woke up this morning, Dad was here waiting. And now, so are you. Meanwhile," she looked away, "Dad, I really want to believe that you would have called another ambulance for Gold, even if I hadn't asked about it, but I can't shake the feeling that if I hadn't, we all would have just gone back home and left him there to… to thaw out, or whatever." Her father shifted his position uncomfortably and when she glanced at him, he avoided her eyes. "He's been here now… what? About twelve hours? Maybe sixteen? Has anyone who isn't staff here looked in on him? I mean, besides me?"

"Emma!" Snow exclaimed. "You're our daughter. We want to be at your side."

"I was asleep for hours and it might be thanks to him you still have a son." She took another breath. "And anyway, this isn't the first time we've accepted his help—and that's whether he's offered, we've asked, or we've demanded—and then ignored him until the next time we need it."

"Well," David said, "I mean, he is the Dark One. Associating with him has a few risks."

Emma gave her father a hard look. "How about we try solving the next crisis on our own? I mean, if you think that'll be safer." She waited for a reply and when neither of her parents provided one, she went on. "You can tell me that Good always wins, that Good doesn't seek vengeance, that Good gets rewarded and bad gets punished. But if Good is okay with using people, if Good is confused about the difference between vengeance and justice, if Good is so quick to point out Dark acts and so willing to ignore the times that someone who supposedly embodies everything Dark and evil in this town saves our personal and collective hashes… I have to ask how… 'good' Good really is."

Snow regarded her seriously for a moment. Then, she sighed. "I know," she admitted. "When Gold took you and Henry to Manhattan, Cora captured one of my oldest friends and threatened to crush her heart if we didn't surrender the dagger. I made the 'right' decision. And Cora threw her through the clock tower glass. Joanna fell three stories to her death." She shook her head. "That was when I decided that killing Cora was the greater good. But Emma, I was wrong."

It would have been so easy to nod and let her parents gently lead her away. Oh, she could keep her word now and stay with Gold until Belle got back and then, gradually, build up a distance. Yeah, she would have felt like crap at first, but… _No buts_. She took another breath. "It goes deeper than that," she said slowly. "I… okay. You know I've been reading my way through L. Frank Baum's Oz books, looking for clues. I'd just finished _The Patchwork Girl of Oz_ when things really got serious. And… something bugged me about that one. I don't just mean because it didn't have any hints on how to beat Zelena; we managed just fine. But…"

She frowned. "Okay. I'm going to try to just give you an overview without getting bogged down in plot points that aren't important right now. It's a basic quest story. A kid named Ojo has to go on a scavenger hunt through Oz to track down a bunch of ingredients that a magician needs to reverse a potion that turned Ojo's uncle and the magician's wife to stone. With me so far?"

Puzzled, her parents both nodded.

"As you'd expect with that kind of story, Ojo has a lot of small adventures, meets a lot of different people, some friendly, some not… standard fare. Until he gets to one of the last ingredients on his list: the wing of a yellow butterfly. Now, since I've never been to Oz, I have no idea if the four countries in that land are really color-coded, but it turns out that if you want anything yellow, you have to go to… Winkie Country. The ruler there is the Tin Woodman from the first book. He's a hero, he's got a heart, he's got to be willing to help, right?" Emma shook her head. "He refuses. He says that he can't bear to cause a butterfly harm, even if it means Ojo won't get all the ingredients. This… bugged me for a few reasons. First of all, do either of you know the Tin Woodman's back story?"

Snow and David looked at one another. "Uh…" David frowned. "He was just standing there rusting until Dorothy found him right?"

"In the movie," Emma nodded. "The book was a little… more gruesome. Long story short, a witch put a curse on his axe. Every time he'd go out to chop wood, he… chopped off a body part and the local tinsmith made him a… a prosthetic, I guess. Which, when you think about it begs the question of how he ended up with a tin torso, but I guess that'll take us off on another tangent. My point is that if someone could craft him a tin body, piece by piece, would it really have been hard to make an artificial wing out of… I don't know, gossamer? The animals in Oz could talk. At the very least, the Woodman could have asked for a volunteer. But he didn't, because he didn't want the butterfly to suffer." Emma smiled bitterly.

"The story does have a happy ending, by the way," she continued. "Or, at least, a what-the-hell kind of ending, where everyone's happy. But I think that really, the way the Woodman acts in the book is basically the problem I have with what's passing for 'good' in town right now. I mean, I know the message that Baum was trying to get across. All life is important and you shouldn't torture butterflies. But there's another message in there, one that I can't get out of my mind. And that's that there is something _very_ messed up with our concept of Good, if we can smile and say that doing the right thing means that someone's life… o-or suffering… isn't worth a butterfly's wing."

Her mother flinched, and Emma felt a pang of remorse, but she kept talking. "Pardoning Zelena now, giving her another chance… that's as good as saying that what she did to Gold, that everything she put this town through… doesn't matter. Because if she changes, everything will be fine from here on in, right? Well," she allowed, "maybe she can change. Maybe she'll be good. But maybe she won't. And until she demonstrates in some way that she's willing to reform, I don't think she deserves a second chance. Maybe Regina's willing to hand her one anyway. Maybe you two are. Hell, once I calm down a little, you might even be able to talk me into it. But that's not… normal. You can do it and that's great, but I think you're losing sight of the fact that not everyone is _that_ forgiving and maybe not everyone has to be. All I'm asking you to do is, right now, take some time, make a list of everything Gold's done to help us since we got back here. Then make another list. Of everything Zelena's done to hurt us. And no crap about collateral damage not counting. I don't think she really cared if Neal lived or died, but the rest of us sure as hell do. You make those lists. And then, you tell me who you think we ought to be rolling out the welcome wagon for."

It was a long speech for her and she felt as though someone had stuck a pin in her and she was slowly deflating, now that she'd made it. She took another breath. "When you figure it out, you can come find me. Chances are, I'll be with Gold."

For a moment, there was silence. Then all three heard a choking sound from outside the room's open door. Emma exchanged a startled glance with her parents. Then she got up quietly from the bed and walked to the entrance.

She wasn't surprised to see Gold standing outside, facing the wall, his shoulders trembling. "Hey," she whispered, holding out her hand.

He gripped it fiercely in his own and offered no resistance when Emma drew him into an embrace. She was dimly aware that her parents were hovering behind her.

"We…" Snow's voice was hoarse and she quickly cleared her throat. "We're calling a preliminary hearing into the matter, once everyone's ready to deal with it. Zelena's disposition may be up to Charming and me, but I think it's a good idea to consult with the rest of the town before making any kind of decision. Until then, Zelena stays here in the psychiatric ward, wearing one of Pan's cuffs at all times. I'll break it to Regina."

Gold's eyes were closed, but they sprang open in shock at Snow's declaration. A slow smile ghosted across his face for a moment. Then he nodded and relaxed once more.

"It's not going to be easy," David cautioned.

Emma lifted her head. "Nothing worthwhile ever is," she said, her voice just barely above a whisper. She lowered her head toward Gold's ear. "I'm up for it, if you are."

Gold nodded again.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

It was almost two hours before they left the hospital. By then, Belle had called to say that they'd be in shortly after suppertime. Pete would be driving with the baby, while she—and Leonora—would be flying. "I'm not sure how much you told her about Storybrooke," her laugh had been clear over the speaker, "but I think she had her bag packed before her parents gave their permission." Her voice softened. "It's going to be good to be home, though. I've missed you. All of you."

"And we, you," Gold had replied, matching her tone. "Have you thought about where to have Elliott land?"

"It's probably best if he doesn't land in the middle of town," Belle reflected. "I think there's been enough damage there and Pete's told me that Passamaquoddy's streets can't handle a swinging dragon tail. I doubt Storybrooke's will do any better on that front."

"Over the town line," Snow said. We'll meet you there with cars and… I guess, David and I will take the baby, Leonora can ride with Pete, and you with Gold? Elliott can stay on the beach or by the lake or… we'll figure out something!"

"Just get back here safe," David grinned. "Oh… uh… I don't know if anyone needs to tell him I might have killed one of his cousins, once."

Emma blinked. She'd forgotten that part of her father's story. "Wait. Is that going to be a problem?"

Gold shook his head. "I'm not saying he'll be delighted to learn of it, but he's well aware that some dragon species are less… amenable to human contact than others. It'd be a mark of ill-breeding to boast about such an act, but I do believe you'd find most dragons of his ilk to be somewhat understanding should the subject arise."

Emma exchanged a meaningful look with her parents. "Gold," she said, "I think I'm going to head to the front desk and get started on that paperwork Whale was mentioning."

"We'll come with you," Snow said at once.

Gold raised an eyebrow. "Such subtlety," he murmured.

Emma tossed him a smile over her shoulder and caught one in response.

* * *

 _There weren't many people outside Storybrooke Hospital when the four of them left about a half-hour later, but there were more than a few double-takes when they saw the Charmings in close conversation with the Dark One. And a moment later, when they watched all of them got into the same car, a buzz of surprised conversation ensued. Had they followed the car back to the Nolans' apartment, they would have had even more to discuss…_

"Wait. You're telling me that if we go ahead with the hearing, I'll have to move out?" Emma exclaimed, once they were all sitting around the dining room table. "I thought you were on board with this."

Snow sighed. "I was afraid you'd take it this way," she admitted, "but to do anything else could be taken as a show of favoritism." Her eyes flicked to Gold, who nodded his understanding.

"Favoritism?" Emma repeated. "I'm your daughter. I've lived with you practically since I arrived in Storybrooke. The first time," she amended.

"I know!" Snow took a deep breath. "But for the kind of proceeding you're asking, there are certain protocols that need to be followed. Some of them are legal and some are more… issues of propriety."

"Emma," David cut in, "if we're going to go ahead with the hearing, then for the next little while, we can't act like your parents, because we're also going to be the presiding judges. We need to stay impartial, yes. But more importantly, we need to be _perceived_ as impartial. That isn't going to happen if one of the people leading the petition against Zelena is literally eating and sleeping under our roof all that time."

"I don't like it either," Snow admitted. "If this were happening back in our land, maybe there'd be some leeway. You'd have your own apartments within the palace—if you didn't have your own castle by now. And the palace," she gave a little laugh, "the palace was like a hive. I think there were four hundred people in residence, to say nothing of the crowds who would come to pay court or do business in the bailey. What I mean," she continued, taking a deep breath, "is that back in our land, if you were trying in any way to influence the outcome, there's no way it would have stayed secret. You'd never be alone in private with us and there'd be enough observers around to squelch any rumors. That's not the case here."

"Quite right," Gold agreed. "I doubt you'll be able to completely avoid those insinuations, as there will always be those to point out that since Emma is your daughter, you'll naturally be expected to rule in her favor. However, your way, I believe that fewer such voices will be raised."

"Actually," David said, "Snow and I are hoping that we won't have to rule on this at all. Ideally, the rest of you will be able to come to some sort of agreement among yourselves, which we'll approve. If that doesn't happen, we'll step in, of course, but we'd prefer it didn't come to that."

Emma had always understood on some level that her parents were royalty, but they'd never looked or acted the part and so it was easy to forget. An elementary school teacher in slacks and sweater sets, and a sheriff in button down work shirts and blue jeans just didn't seem all that… regal. Except that right now, it didn't matter that her mother's cardigan was slipping off one shoulder and she had ink stains on her fingers. Even without a crown, she was every inch a princess. And five o'clock shadow and a wrinkled shirt didn't make her father seem any less a prince at the moment. "At this point," Snow was explaining now, "no matter what decision we hand down, somebody is going to think we were too strict or too lenient and it's going to cause resentment. And on one level, if that's what has to happen, then…" she pressed her lips together, "…that's what will be and we'll weather it. But if the council can come to us with a petition that they've agreed on together, something everyone can live with, then I think it's going to be accepted a lot more readily by the town at large."

Gold was nodding. "Sensible," he approved. "In fact considering that your lessons in statecraft and diplomacy were unexpectedly cut short and," he glanced at David, "yours never existed, well," he smiled, "I'm actually somewhat impressed you came up with it so quickly."

"Rumpelstiltskin," David added, a new note of gravity coming into his voice, "we need your word on this. We're committed to conducting a fair hearing. Your grievances—and everyone else's—will be heard and judged. But to move forward, we need your promise that you'll refrain from any personal acts of revenge or retribution against Zelena, before, during or after the hearing."

Gold was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded. "If you give me your word that my grievances will be addressed, then I give you mine that I will accept your judgment on her and exact none of my own. Do not break faith with me and I'll not break it with you."

David extended his hand and laid it flat on the table, palm down. Gold stared at it, disbelieving for a moment. Then he laid his own hand down on top of it. Snow followed suit. "Uh…" Emma started, "Do I…?"

Gold shook his head. "Not necessary, dearie. This pact is between your parents and myself. But," his lips pulled up into a brief smile, "it never hurts to have a witness."

Emma gave him a quick smile back. "Okay," she said slowly. "Getting back to the original subject, I guess I can get my stuff together and Henry and I can go back to Granny's for a little while."

Snow blinked. In that moment, the "princess" disappeared, and her mother resurfaced. "I hadn't thought you'd want to start right now!" she exclaimed. "I mean, you can take a day or two to recuperate. You've just got out of the hospital. You both have." She looked from Emma to Gold. "At the very least, we can wait until Belle and the baby come back."

Gold nodded. "I'll admit I'd like a few days to recover, and it won't hurt Zelena to stew a bit longer. However," he added, "I think your daughter's first instinct was correct. Let people see her check into Granny's. Let them realize that she's not currently living with you. If anyone asks before you're ready to announce the hearing, just tell them you believe you'll need more space now, what with the baby. Otherwise, how might it look if she were to wait until, say, an hour before you made the proclamation?"

Reluctantly, Snow nodded. A moment later, Charming followed.

"Right. So, once Henry gets back from Regina's," Emma sighed, "we'll move out. And yeah," she added with a quick smile, "I get it. I don't like it, but I get it."

"Gold," David said, "Emma doesn't know all the protocols for this kind of proceeding. And somehow, I doubt if any of our kingdom's legal codes made the crossover to this realm. Can you instruct her?"

Gold sighed. "First magic. Now politics. You really don't choose the easy subjects."

Emma tilted her head to one side. "Actually," she quipped, "I think it's more like they're choosing me."

"You make a fair point," Gold admitted. He looked back to David. "As you wish."

Everyone else at the table relaxed noticeably. "Now that we've settled that," Snow said brightly, "would anyone like some breakfast?"

* * *

Emma and Henry had departed almost a half hour earlier, when David called to let Snow know that Regina had just left the sheriff's station on foot. Snow was glad of the warning. It gave her barely ten minutes preparation time—long enough to brew a pot of tea and set up for two—before Regina was on her doorstep with a set expression on her face. "I went down to the sheriff's station to see my sister just now," she said with her best political smile. "Your husband told me that she'd been moved. To the hospital's psychiatric ward."

Snow stood aside so that her stepmother could enter. She wished for a moment that she could have had longer to prepare for this, but on second thought, more time to prepare was also more time to stress. "It's just until the hearing, Regina," she said, sitting down at the table and motioning to the other woman to join her.

"Ah, yes," Regina replied, still smiling brightly. "I don't recall hearing anything about such an event before today. Were you going to invite me or just… burn her at the stake before I knew what was going on?"

Well, at least she knew why Regina was this ticked off. "David didn't tell you," she guessed. "We only decided on it in the hospital this morning, after talking to Emma."

Regina's too-polite veneer receded, leaving surprise in its wake. "This was Emma's idea?"

Snow shook her head as she poured out two cups of tea. "No. Well, maybe she suggested it after something David said to her, but it's our decision." She took a deep breath. "If Zelena had come after you alone, we wouldn't get involved. But she's hurt so many people here. And a couple of people who aren't here, too. We can't ignore their grievances."

Regina accepted the cup with a raised eyebrow. "You didn't mention any of this yesterday."

"Yesterday, I was just glad the threat was over and we were all safe. I wasn't thinking of much beyond that. And I should have been."

"So, now you want revenge?"

Snow shook her head. "Justice. I'm not ruling out some leniency, if that's what the council decides—and when the summonses go out, you're getting one; that was always the plan—"

"—Since this morning," Regina interrupted, but the edge was gone from her voice.

"Since we decided to have the hearing, yes. If the council is willing to extend leniency, then we'll endorse it. But Zelena has hurt a lot of people and they should also have a say in deciding her fate."

Regina's other eyebrow shot up. "Fate? It sounds to me like you've already got a verdict in mind."

Snow shook her head. "We don't. But we did speak with two of the other aggrieved parties this morning and… I think you're going to have a hard time persuading them to let Zelena go with a warning."

"I take it Emma's one of them. And the other…?"

"Gold."

Regina set her cup down in the saucer with louder clink than usual. "Of course. He can't kill her with magic, so long as I have the dagger, but he'll agitate for a formal execution. I can't believe you're… Wait. Did you make a deal with him? Is this something you're being forced into?"

Snow hesitated. "Not in the way you're thinking." Briefly, she explained about the oath they'd taken less than two hours earlier. "So, that's our deal. The hearing was our idea, but if we were to try to back out of it, that'll void his agreement to leave Zelena alone and abide by the verdict." She took a breath. "And by the way, he told Emma that if you give him his dagger back, he'll try to forget you used it on him yesterday."

"And you believe him?"

Snow sighed. "I don't know if it's smart," she admitted. "But yes. I do. The way he's been since Neverland tells me he's trying to be a better person. And if he were lying, I'd think he'd say something more unequivocal, like that he'd forgive you completely for taking it. This… sounds honest."

"It does," Regina admitted. "And if, as you say, he's taken that oath, maybe you're right. If nothing else, it's likely to make him more willing to listen to anything I might say at the hearing without dismissing it out of hand." She sighed. "I'll think about it."

Snow didn't think she'd get more out of her stepmother than that. She took a sip of tea, made a face, and added a couple of sugar lumps.

Regina smirked. "You always did have a sweet tooth," she remarked.

Snow laughed.

"Maybe," Regina admitted, "giving her a second chance immediately _is_ a bit much. It took _me_ some time. I thought that without her magic, she wouldn't pose a threat and we could afford to show leniency. Frankly, I'm surprised you're taking a harder line. Just from a talk with Emma?"

"No," Snow shook her head. "The talk got me thinking, but…" She took a deep breath. "Regina, I'm sorry. I have to bring up something that's going to be painful for both of us. All I ask is that you don't interrupt until I finish. After that, you still might not agree with me, but I think you'll understand a little better."

Regina raised an eyebrow. Then she finished her tea and poured another cup. "All right," she said. "I'm listening."

Snow took a deep breath and placed her hands in her lap, where Regina wouldn't see her fingers twisting together. "My father," she said slowly, "didn't just want to be a good king; he wanted to be a king who was beloved by his subjects. He used to travel the length and breadth of the kingdom, trying to find people who weren't happy, so he could help them."

"I remember," Regina said, her voice just louder than a whisper.

"Do you remember the day he brought the genie to court? How he told the story at dinner about how he'd wished him free so that everyone in the kingdom would be truly happy? And everyone smiled and applauded. Me along with them," she added, smiling at the recollection. "But then… I happened to see you, Regina. You were smiling with everyone, but you looked as if you'd rather have been anywhere but at that table."

"I…" Regina started to say.

Snow shook her head. "Please," she said, her smile turning tremulous. "You said you'd let me finish. My father was a good man. But he wasn't perfect. And I think one of his biggest mistakes was scouring the kingdom to find people to make happy… when he should have been concentrating his efforts on the palace first. I don't know whether that might have changed anything that happened later. Maybe it wouldn't have made any difference in the end. But I think it could have."

Regina covered her eyes with her hand.

"You were asking about the talk I had with Emma. It made me realize that something similar is happening again, right here, right now. There's someone new in town who has… probably been miserable for a very long time. And there's someone ready to reach out and give her a second chance. And Regina, that is a wonderfully magnanimous thing to do. I mean that." Her face fell. "But there's someone else a lot closer to home in a similar situation who, much as it pains me to say it, we've always taken for granted. He's also unhappy. He's part of this town. And somehow, when most of our backs were turned, he's managed to change his behavior without even a fraction of the help we've extended—or would probably extend—if he were anyone else."

Snow took a deep breath. "Regina, we both know that I am not perfect. I have made many, many mistakes. And some, I have made over and over again. But until now, they've all been _my_ mistakes. I've had a hard enough time trying to rectify those, without starting to take on my father's shortcomings, too. Before I consider extending a welcome to Zelena, I need to know that I've done everything I can for Rumpelstiltskin. And unfortunately, he is one of the people who has suffered the most at Zelena's hands. He's asked for justice. I've pledged to see that he gets it. And I'm going to try to forget that if it were anyone else in this town, they wouldn't have had to ask in the first place. And wish I'd recognized that for myself, long before my daughter had to point it out to me."

Her voice broke on the last few words and she had to excuse herself and step into the bathroom to pull herself together. When she came back, Regina was still finishing her tea.

"Well," Regina said finally, "I suppose I'd better reacquaint myself with the procedures for these meetings." She sighed. "I appreciate the explanation, Snow. I'm not overjoyed at the turn things have taken," she admitted, "but I do understand."

She pushed her chair away from the table. "Thank you for the tea. Oh, and I should have my things out of the mayor's office within the next couple of days, so anytime you want to start moving in after that should be fine."

* * *

Granny gave them the same room she had when they'd first checked in on their arrival—or return—to Storybrooke. Since neither she nor Henry had much more than a duffle bag apiece of clothes and other personal effects, it didn't take them long to get settled.

"So," Emma concluded, "I need to know you understand. What's going to happen is probably going to put me and Regina against each other again. That's going to be hard for you and I don't want you to feel we're asking you to take sides. I don't think I'll be taking a chainsaw to her apple tree anytime soon, and I doubt she'll be sending me over any turnovers, but we're probably going to be infuriating each other again, and it's going to be rough because, this time… I don't think there's a right or wrong side, necessarily."

Henry held up a hand. "Mom. I get it," he said. "It's okay."

Emma hesitated. "And you're okay with it?"

"Yes!" He plugged his AC adapter cable into his Gameboy and inserted the other end into the wall outlet. "Actually," he admitted, "I'm more than okay with it. When Zelena got me by the town line, the other day, I thought she was going to kill me. I'm glad I don't have to see her again so fast. I mean, I know everyone needs a second chance, but does she have to have it around me?"

Emma wrapped an arm around her son and pulled him in close. "I…" She took a breath. "I know. I'm pretty sure your grandfather feels the same way." She took another breath. "Did you say any of this to Regina last night?"

Henry shook his head. "She was so happy she'd done the right thing. I couldn't tell her that maybe she hadn't."

"Okay." Emma took another breath. "Do you mind if I do?"

Henry blinked. "No, of course not."

"Okay. Because this is the kind of thing… Maybe you need to talk to someone, but what you need to talk about is, sort of, at the heart of what's going to have Regina and me facing off against each other. I don't want you to feel you can't talk about it, but I don't want you to feel you're helping or hurting one of our positions and…" She shook her head. She felt like she was tripping over her own tongue trying to get her words right and it wasn't working. "I just don't want you to feel like you can't talk about what happened to you without one of us worrying that the other one is trying to convince you to choose a side."

Henry sighed. "I know you're not. And even if you were, I'm going to be thirteen soon. I can think for myself. And neither you nor Regina is really all that good at trying to trick me into believing something, okay?"

Emma smiled. "Okay. So. Your grandfather's coming by later this afternoon. It… seems I need a crash course in Legal Proceedings in the Enchanted Forest, and he's going to teach me, at least, until it's time to head for the town line and greet everyone arriving from Passamaquoddy. But before he does, I don't see any reason why the two of you can't sit down and get reacquainted."

Henry beamed.

* * *

They were due at the town line at seven. Gold was at their motel room at four. Emma left him and Henry to catch up, while she got out some cans of cold soda she'd picked up earlier and filled a few disposable bowls with chips, nuts, and pretzel sticks. After a moment's consideration, she arranged a plate of apples, grapes, and pears, as well.

As she continued her preparations, she realized that the two of them were deep in conversation and she glanced over her shoulder. Gold was relaxed, smiling slightly, and clearly enjoying himself. For his part, Henry was doing his best to catch up his grandfather on what the last year had been like.

Emma smiled. Then, she pulled out her cell phone and started texting Regina. It was important that she know what was going on with Henry, but it was equally important that she understand that Emma wasn't trying to influence him. She thought back to that first year in Storybrooke, when she and Regina had been at each other's throats—Regina convinced that Emma was trying to take Henry away from her; Emma trying to forge a relationship with the son she'd given up long ago, and digging her heels in deeper every time the mayor tried to get rid of her. They were friends now. She preferred things that way. And she didn't want this latest crusade to awaken old hostilities. Emma definitely didn't want Regina to think that she was trying to get Henry to choose sides.

It took about five texts to say everything she wanted to; she'd also wanted to be clear that her calling for the hearing was more about giving everyone a voice in the decision than about wanting Zelena's head on a pike—or whatever it was they might have done in the Enchanted Forest. And she'd been typing in longhand, since she had a feeling that Regina probably wasn't skilled in chat-speak. After she sent the last text, she glanced over her shoulder again. Gold and Henry were still talking, and clearly hadn't been paying the slightest attention to what she'd been doing.

"…So, I thought I was a goner until Elliott showed up right behind her. Only she didn't know he was there until he roared. And then..." Henry laughed, "Oh, grandpa, you should have seen the look on her face!"

Gold was laughing too. "Henry," he managed to gasp, "I only wish I had!"

Emma smiled, as she began moving the bowls to the top of the pine dresser—the room didn't have a table. Her phone vibrated and she dug it out again. Regina had texted her back.

"We'll talk this evening." A moment later, a second text followed. "Thanks for bringing it to my attention."

Regina wasn't mad. Emma returned her phone to her pocket, feeling like she'd just dodged a bullet.

* * *

The area by the town line sported welcome banners along both sides of the road. Halogen spotlights had been lined up in a field a half-mile back for a makeshift runway. Granny had set up a roadside stand, and she and Ruby were doing a brisk business in hot drinks and cookies shaped like baby bottles and rattles. Most of the town had turned out and lined the road for about a mile and a half.

"Do NOT ignite any fireworks until the dragon has landed!" Snow was proclaiming with the aid of a megaphone. "He needs to be able to see the runway!"

Emma felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Gold behind her. "I've just had word from Belle," he said, holding up his cell phone. Emma suspected that, once he'd gone back home, finding and charging it had probably been one of his first orders of business. "I think it's time to repair over to the field."

Emma grinned. "Much as I'd like to see Leonora and Elliott again," she said, "I'd kind of like a look at my little brother, first. You go. I'll catch up."

Gold nodded. Then, worriedly, "You… don't imagine she's met anyone over there?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "I really hope that was supposed to be a joke," she replied. "If it wasn't, in a few minutes, you can ask her yourself."

Gold pressed his lips together firmly and nodded once, before vanishing in a puff of purple smoke. Emma shook her head, but she was smiling.

Twin headlights appeared down the road and drew steadily nearer. Emma wasn't really surprised when Grumpy tore down the road bellowing, "They're coming! THEY'RE HERE!"

A breeze passed overhead, shaking the treetops vigorously. They could just barely make out two figures, apparently seated in midair, gliding toward the runway. And then a battered old pickup truck drove slowly over the town line and came to a halt. The driver's door opened and Pete climbed out and looked around in amazement. "Um… Hi!" he said. "You got this together for _us_?"

"Pete!" Emma waved as she came forward, her parents close behind. "Uh… these are my parents, David and Mary Margaret Nolan. Mom, Dad, this is Pete Eddystone."

Pete started to bow. Then he seemed to think better of it and extended his hand, which David clasped in a hearty handshake. "Sorry. Emma and Mr. Gold explained a bit about who you are, but I wasn't sure about the etiquette." He started walking around the front of the truck, Emma and her parents following closely. "Though," he continued, "somehow, I think you're probably less concerned about my lack of courtly manners and more concerned with…" he opened the passenger door, "the little gentleman who's been sharing the ride with me."

Snow gave a glad cry. And then, she was fumbling at the straps of the car bed, while David thanked Pete. Some of the other town folk drew closer, their interest sparked as much by the presence of a royal baby as by the presence of a newcomer. Pete was gracious at first, but it was plain that he was uncomfortable with all the attention.

"Uh… people," Emma held up her hands. "Fall back? Mr. Eddystone will be here all weekend. Let the guy breathe, will ya?" She grinned at Pete. "We're probably going to head back to town in a few minutes. I can take you around and introduce you to some people then."

Pete nodded. "I'd be much obliged. Would you happen to know where Elliott touched down? I should probably make sure Leonora knows where I am."

Emma nodded. "It's not far. C'mon, I'll take you." She grinned. "You can leave the truck where it is. Nobody else ever drives into town, so it's not like you're blocking."

Pete raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue. Emma glanced at her parents, who were now entertaining a long line of well-wishers—or people eager for a first look at the new prince. She fired off a quick text to her father and headed down the road, Pete at her heels.

* * *

"What do you _mean_ , she told you to put a bullet in your head?" an exasperated voice was heard clearly in the night air. "C'mon, you gotta give me something else! That's not an answer!"

Emma glanced over her shoulder. Pete was smiling and rolling his eyes slightly. Regina and Henry were a few steps behind. From their expressions, they—and the handful of townspeople who'd followed, had caught the words too.

She heard Gold chuckle. "I'll tell you what, Leonora," he began slowly. "Have you a watch? Or some other means of keeping time?"

Warily. "Yeah…"

"Very well. Now, I have not seen Belle in several days and, for reasons you well know, our time together was rather fleeting before that. So, if you'll grant us an hour together now… I'll share some of the details later."

There was a short pause. Then Emma had to stifle a chuckle of her own. " _Half_ an hour," the first voice countered.

"Leonora…"

"Uncle Pete and I are just visiting for the weekend. Then I'll be heading home and you'll have all the time together you need. Besides… I'm company."

Emma leaned to Pete. "Is she serious?"

Pete sighed. "In a manner of speaking. When she was a few years younger, she learned that a certain level of brattiness was generally perceived as 'cute'. Of course, now that she's twelve, she's really too grown up to pull it off without being annoying, but every so often, she tries." His frowned. "He wouldn't really turn her into a frog or anything, would he?"

"Of course not," Regina assured him. In an undertone, she added, "Even at his darkest, he's always had a soft spot for children."

Gold was talking again. "You do raise several points. However, delaying gratification leads to improved chances of success later in life. Waiting is good for you. Fifty minutes."

"Seems like what's sauce for the goose ought to be sauce for the gander. Forty-five?"

Gold chuckled again. "There's definitely a great deal of sauce here, that much I'll grant. Forty-five it is. Off you go, then." His voice rose several notches as he continued. "You'll find the others skulking about in the trees, thinking I don't know they were eavesdropping. And while they may not be bound by our deal, I would take it as a courtesy if they upheld it."

Emma glanced at Regina. "I think we just got told," she murmured, as footsteps came crunching toward them over dead leaves.

Regina had a bemused expression on her face. "I do believe you're right," she said, as Leonora broke through the trees.

"Emma! Hi!"

Introductions were quickly made and the small group headed back toward the truck. Regina motioned to Emma to let the others go on ahead.

"I know why you sent me those texts," Regina said, when the others were out of earshot. "Back when you first came to Storybrooke, I probably would have assumed that you were trying to influence Henry against me. I would have been wrong."

"I know he wants to talk about it, but I don't want him to feel like he has to take a side. Even though what happened sort of plays into…"

Regina sighed. "It's not really your side or mine this time, is it? We're not denying anything my sister's done; we're just disagreeing on what the consequences of her actions ought to be. Let's just be thankful that Henry's comfortable enough to discuss his concerns with at least one of us, instead of keeping it all in. If it gets to be too much, I can ask him how he feels about a few sessions with Archie." Her expression grew troubled. "I hope, by now, he'll know that it's not because I'm trying to convince him that his sanity is in any way in question. I just think that if he needs more help than we can provide, he should get it. And if not, whether he comes to you or to me…"

"Or both of us," Emma interjected.

"Yes. Well, I think we need to be more concerned about the incident and how he's coping with it, than about what we might think about same. I'm not saying I'll always remember that, but… tonight I will." She held out her hand.

Emma took it with a tentative smile.

* * *

The night was turning chilly by the time they all drove back to Granny's. Emma was feeling tired and, from the look of it, Pete was ill at ease in the crowd. Gold seemed all right, but then, everyone but Leonora seemed to be giving the table he shared with Belle a wide berth. Regina and Robin appeared to have slipped off somewhere. Emma finished the last of her cinnamon hot chocolate, smiled at Henry, and got up to say goodbye to her parents.

"Actually," Snow said, "would you mind waiting just a few minutes longer? I think with most of the town here, we may as well get one ceremony out of the way now."

Emma blinked. "You mean…?"

David shrugged. "The hearing is a formal affair. Not something we can spontaneously decide to hold with no advance notice. This, on the other hand… Well, we were planning to present your brother to the town with a potluck at Granny's anyway. And…" He gestured toward the tables, groaning with pies and cakes and casseroles, "The fact is, after the baby was born, people came through for us with more than we can eat _or_ freeze. We're using tonight as an excuse to share the excess. This was just going to be a welcome celebration, but I'm not sure if we need a second party right on the heels of the first. Snow?"

Her mother nodded. "Excuse me?" she called, tapping on her empty water glass. "If I could have everyone's attention just for a moment? At the last minute, we've decided to turn this welcome celebration into a coronation ceremony—because, frankly, it's something we've looked forward to for a long time and… we're done with waiting." There was general laughter and Snow waited for it to die down before she continued. "The arrival of our new son has been the cause of great joy for our family. And we hope you can share in it as we name him for a hero. Someone who saved every one of us. Who we loved and he loved back." She took another breath. "People of Storybrooke, it is our great joy to introduce you to our son Prince Neal." Before the cheers and applause could begin, Snow again motioned for silence. "Sadly, Neal did not live to see this day. As, I'm sure, all of you know, our son was born into great danger, stolen away at the moment of his birth. At this time, we would be remiss were we to fail to acknowledge that had Neal's father not spirited our son over the town line to safety, there is an excellent chance that we," her voice trembled for a moment and she took another breath, "that we would not be gathered here celebrating now. Rumpelstiltskin, we thank you."

Every eye in the restaurant turned to the table in the corner. Gold's eyes were wide and he seemed, to Emma, not unlike a deer caught in the headlights. _You okay?_ she mouthed.

His head jerked up and down once, whether in acknowledgment of Emma's question or her mother's accolade was unclear. Then he realized that Belle was beaming at him and a slow smile spread across his face.

Emma looked at her parents. "Thanks."

"It needed to be said," Snow replied softly. "But more than that, I think people needed to hear it. Including Rumpelstiltskin."

"I know." She looked down at the bundle in her mother's arms. "It's so nice to meet you, Neal." She realized that Henry was at her elbow and she moved aside to give him a better view. She glanced at Gold's table again and realized that it was empty. She hesitated only a moment before walking out of the restaurant.

* * *

Gold was nowhere in sight, but Regina and Robin were coming back from their walk, Roland between them. "Emma," Regina called, walking up. "I'm glad I caught you." She reached into her purse and lifted out something long and narrow, wrapped in linen. "Will you… give this to Rumple? I'm not about to control him and it doesn't appear as though he needs to be compelled not to go after my sister, so… really, there's no point." She sighed. "He had that dagger for centuries and he did more damage to this town in the short while that Zelena was pulling his strings. I know that better than you do."

Emma reached for it. "Don't you think you should…?"

Regina sighed. "Probably, but that's not going to happen tonight. Is he inside?"

Emma shook her head and explained what had just happened. "I'll find him," she grinned. "It's sort of what I do. But if I'm not back in an hour, get Henry?"

Regina nodded.

* * *

There was a light on when she drove past his house and she parked the car and rang the bell. It took almost a full minute before the door opened.

"Emma," Gold greeted her. His expression was weary. "I hope your parents weren't too distressed at my running off. It's not that I don't appreciate what they did, only…"

"Yeah. And I don't know. I ducked out right after you did. And ran into Regina." She reached into her jacket and pulled out the linen-wrapped bundle. "She asked me to give you this." She unwrapped the bundle slowly.

"Rumple?" Belle appeared in the doorway behind him. "Who…? Oh, hello, Emma. What…? Rumple, is that…?"

Rumple's eyes grew wide. He took the dagger reverently and rewrapped it. Then he shook his head and handed it back to Emma. "I think you'd best hold onto this for now."

Emma's jaw dropped. "After everything my parents and I have done to persuade Regina to part with it? No way. Here."

"No," Rumple protested. "No, I don't want it. Not now."

"Gold. I don't want it either. It's yours. You take it." She thrust it at him once more, but he pushed it back. "I don't…" He froze.

"Wait," Belle said, confusion clear on her face. "How…?"

Emma's eyes widened. Realization struck all three of them, nearly at once. Emma had just given him a direct order to take the dagger. He'd refused. Which meant…

With a sigh, Emma slid the linen bundle back into her purse. "You could have told me it was a fake," she muttered.

"I…" Belle shook her head. "I don't understand. Rumple… Why?"


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

For the second time that evening, Gold reminded Emma of a deer caught in the headlights. "Hey," she said softly, taking hold of his sleeve. "Hey, it's all right."

"I don't understand," Belle repeated. "Did Regina give Emma a fake dagger to… to trick you?"

Gold closed his eyes. "No," he admitted. Slowly, he pulled open his jacket to reveal a familiar hilt and the top of its corresponding blade poking out of an inside pocket. "I've some skill at sleight-of-hand. It's how I was able to retain the squid ink, even under Zelena's nose."

Belle took a step forward. "But why?" she demanded, a note of anger creeping into her voice. "Rumple…?"

He shrank back at her approach. "You wouldn't understand," he muttered.

"Try us," Emma replied.

Gold looked from her to Belle. Then he vanished in a cloud of purple smoke, leaving his jacket behind in Emma's hand.

"Damn it," Emma snapped. She checked the inner pocket. Gold might have left the jacket, but he'd taken the dagger. Emma wasn't surprised. She looked at Belle. "You got any of that locator potion handy?"

"Uh… yeah. It's in the shop. He's probably there, too."

Emma shook her head. "No, he knows that's probably the first place we'd look. Damn," she said again. "I should have expected something like this!"

"Like what?" Belle blinked.

Emma sighed. "Maybe we should give him a little time to calm down before we go charging after him anyway. Could I…? Do you think he'd mind if I came in? I think I want to tell you a story and I think we both need to sit down for it."

Belle nodded and moved aside to allow Emma entrance. Emma remained standing where she was. "Unless…" she whispered.

Belle frowned. "Unless…?"

Emma took a deep breath. "I hope I'm wrong. But just in case I'm not… Get in the car. I'll tell you on the way." She headed down Gold's walk at a brisk clip.

"On the way to where?" Belle asked, trotting to keep up.

In the night breeze, Belle barely heard Emma's reply. "The hospital."

* * *

"Actually," Emma said, as Belle got into the Beetle, "I'm a lousy storyteller. Let me just say it like it is. I…" She took a breath. "I know that you weren't around when I arrived in Storybrooke to break the curse. At that point, Regina was…" she took another breath. "Let's just say she wanted me gone and she did what she could to make things uncomfortable for me in town. That included having the local newspaper dig up dirt on me. It's old news now, but," she felt her face grow hot. "I've got a juvie record. Theft, fraud, possession of stolen goods…" She winced. "Bail-jumping. And she turned up something else that wasn't exactly illegal, but in some ways, it was worse—because it sort of shone a spotlight on something I thought was one of my defining characteristics back then."

Belle fastened her seatbelt. "Um… okay?"

Emma sighed. "I grew up bouncing around from foster home to foster home. I never felt I belonged anywhere and… I called them foster _homes_ just now? That's what the social workers called them, but weren't homes to me. They were just… places I lived until I lived somewhere else. And whenever things started clicking for me," she took another breath and turned her key in the ignition, "I got scared. I either ran away or did something bad enough that the place I was at called child services and told them they wanted me placed elsewhere. It wasn't something conscious. I don't remember ever deliberately sitting down and deciding to spend a night on the streets or… or start cutting classes and hang out at the mall, or shoplift or anything. It's just that when I look back now, I can recognize a pattern: I saw myself as untrustworthy and unreliable and anytime I ran into someone who didn't see me that way, it was like subconsciously, I thought I had to set the record straight. Like sooner or later, they were going to find out how wrong they were and then they'd see me for what I really was—and I might as well make it sooner." She started turned the corner. "I think Archie would call it 'self-sabotage'. Or maybe there's some other term for it, but 'self-sabotage' works for me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Belle frown. "You think that Rumple trying to pass you a fake dagger…?"

Emma sighed. "I had about thirteen years of being treated like crap and internalizing it. How long has he had? And now," she sighed, "he's just on the verge of having all of that change. Which, deep down, I think he wants. But… he's used to the way things have always been. And…" She took a breath, "maybe he thinks it's safer that way. Like he…"

Belle nodded slowly. "Like he won't be able to keep it up, so he might as well fall now, by his own choice." Her eyes widened. "You think he's going to the hospital to kill Zelena."

"Can you think of a better way to make us forget all the good he's been doing lately?" She took another breath. "I really hope I'm wrong. And if I'm not, I just hope we get there in time and, between the two of us, we can figure out how to talk him down."

"Any ideas?"

Emma sighed. "Not really. I kind of think channeling my parents and telling him to 'do the right thing' is out. I guess I'll just… wing it when we get there."

"What if he's already done what he wants to do to Zelena when we arrive?" Belle ventured.

Emma exhaled heavily. "I don't know. I seriously don't know." A moment later, she added, "There's the hospital. Let me know if you see a parking spot."

* * *

When the elevator doors parted on the lower level of the hospital, for a fleeting moment, Emma thought that they were too late. Both the desk nurse and an orderly lay slumped on the ground, reminding Emma of the scene when she'd raced to her mother's side after the hail and hurricane on Main Street two days earlier.

One of the heavy doors was slightly ajar and she ran toward it, Belle on her heels. Just short of the door, she stopped and listened. Gold was speaking, and while his voice was too low for her to make out the words, there was no mistaking his menacing tone. But if he was talking, then there was still time. She glanced at Belle. "Trust me?" she whispered.

Belle nodded hesitantly. She was holding Gold's jacket in one hand. Emma wondered why she hadn't just left it in the car, but she supposed it wasn't important.

"If we both start in on him, it'll be like we're ganging up. I don't think we'll get anywhere. Let me try first. If I can't talk him down, maybe I can soften him up for when it's your turn. Stay back."

Belle nodded again, an uncertain frown on her face.

Emma pushed the door open wider. Zelena was sitting on the cot, pressed against the wall, as far from Gold as she could get. Her eyes were wide. Emma realized that the only voice she'd heard outside the room—cell, rather—had been Gold's. She guessed he'd cast a silencing spell to keep the witch from calling for help. "Gold!" she said urgently. "Wait."

He didn't turn around. "Sorry, Ms Swan," he said. "I've come too far to back down now."

Emma took a deep breath. "I know," she said. "You have."

He tensed. "Are you telling me, you mean to just going to stand aside and allow me to do what I intend?" he demanded incredulously, still keeping his back to her.

Emma shook her head. Then she realized he probably couldn't see it. "No," she said. "I'm not. But you're right. Since Neverland, you have saved your grandson, given your life for the town, taught me how to use my magic, saved my brother, and handed us the victory we needed that's landed Zelena where she is. You have come too far out of the darkness for me to sit back and watch you fall back down into it without a struggle."

A tremor seemed to ripple through him. "She deserves everything I mean to do her," he snapped.

Emma nodded. "I don't doubt it. That's not the point."

Now he turned to face her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I don't know the half of what she's done to you. I don't know everything she's done to everyone else. But from what I do know…" She took a breath. "You're one hundred percent right. She deserves everything you're planning and probably more. But… after everything you've been through, you don't deserve to have another death on your conscience. If you do what you want, then she gets one more victory over you that she doesn't deserve: she gets to die knowing that she'll have gotten you to reclaim the darkness of your own free will. She'll get to die knowing that she's cost you your happy ending."

Gold's face seemed to twist. "My happy ending was Bae." His voice was ragged. "She's already taken him from me."

Emma closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said heavily.

"I made a promise to him that she would pay."

Emma nodded. "I get it," she said, her voice low, just barely louder than a whisper. "You're doing what he would have wanted."

Gold turned away, irritated. "No, he wouldn't have wanted this. He wouldn't want me to…" He stiffened. "He… wouldn't have wanted this," he repeated slowly.

Emma drew two steps closer, scuffing her boots a bit so as not to startle him. "Gold."

"Bae was… always a better person than I was," he whispered. "He wouldn't want this, but I do. I want her to pay. For everything."

"I know," Emma nodded.

"What she did to me… To Belle… To…"

"I know," Emma repeated. "It must have been hell for you."

"Is that what you believe?" Gold asked, his voice suddenly weary. "Because in many ways, it was actually a relief. Do you know how many instincts, how many urges I've had to suppress to be the man Belle wanted, the father Bae wanted? Do you have any idea how hard it is to fight that darkness? At least, when she held the dagger, I knew it was hopeless. I could just… give in."

"You still got my brother over the town line. You still got me to smash the ink. Which saved my father's life."

"The former was an attempt to repay some of what I owe you for earlier. I dislike being indebted to anyone. As for the latter, Zelena told me to ensure you watched him die. The best way to do that was to immobilize you. You… merely struck me before I was able to use the ink against you."

"Sorry," Emma said. "Not buying it. Gold. You're telling me about how hard you've had to struggle to do the right thing like that's some kind of failing. It's not. If you have all those… instincts and urges—if that's what you want to call them—and you still managed to fight them long enough to save all of us several times over, that makes your actions _more_ admirable, not less."

"And every day it gets harder!" he snapped. "And nobody has any idea! And now, you expect me to back away and do, as you put it, 'the right thing'—for _her_?" Zelena flinched at his stabbing finger, but there was malevolence in her gaze.

"No," Emma whispered. "For you. You don't deserve to get dragged back into that darkness and you _don't_ have to fight it alone." She realized that Belle was standing in the open doorway, observing them. "Belle's here. I'm here. We're going to get you through this. All you have to do… is what you already agreed to this morning. Let Zelena's fate be decided at the hearing. Give my parents the chance to live up to their end of the bargain. Let Zelena stew here until then. And if things don't go the way you want them to at the council meeting, then…" She stopped. She didn't really mean to tell Gold that she'd stand aside at that point and let him finish the job, though she could admit to herself that she probably wouldn't judge him too harshly if he did. "You know what?" she sighed. "I'll probably still try and talk you out of this, because I meant what I said to you earlier in the hospital."

Gold turned back to her with a puzzled frown.

"I told you this morning that what you were able to accomplish under her control was pretty damned heroic and not to let anyone tell you differently. I was talking about you, too, you know. I think I get what Elliott meant about darkness and evil not being the same thing."

"Do you?"

She'd been sure a second ago, but she felt herself wilt under his pointed question. "I think darkness is… choosing to stick with the same old crap because, as much as it stinks, it's something you know. Everything else? Maybe it's better than what you've got, but it's something you don't know how to deal with and that scares the hell out of you because you've just got to take on faith that you'll figure out the new playbook." She took another breath. "Maybe I haven't got a lot of experience with your brand of darkness. But having to forget everything I thought I knew about the way the world worked and take things on faith?" she asked seriously. "I can sort of relate." She shook her head. "Terrified me, too. It still does sometimes. But it gets easier. Especially with support. That's where the rest of us stuffed up," she added. "Seriously, you should have had that all along and I'm sorry we didn't pay enough attention until now. You shouldn't have had to come this far alone and that's on us. Just please, _please_ don't turn back when you're this close to your goal."

The hardness seemed to drain from Gold's eyes. He blinked them rapidly.

"You told me that if I wanted to get my magic to work, the first step was for me to believe that it would. Now I'm telling you that if you want things to get better, the first step has to be for you to believe that they will. Please. Take that step. Leave Zelena here until the hearing. And let's get out of here before whatever you did to stun the staff down here wears off." She stretched out her hand, palm down, as she'd seen her father do earlier. Gold blinked. A faint smile spread his lips.

"That's for a pact, dearie," he said softly. "A deal. I'm not sure you've presented one yet."

"Oh," Emma replied, feeling a bit flustered. "Right. Uh… Leave Zelena here until the trial and… if things get too intense between now and then and you want to talk, or vent, or just… hang out, I…" She glanced over her shoulder, caught Belle's eye, and motioned to her to come forward. " _We'll_ make the time. I said you don't have to deal with this alone and I meant it. By the same token, if you want to handle things alone, we'll give you space. Just… please. Let Zelena's fate be decided at the hearing. Don't give her the satisfaction of knowing she's pushed you back into that darkness. It doesn't have to be that way—"

She broke off, feeling a firm pressure on the back of her hand. Gold had set his own down on top of it. Belle quickly followed suit.

"It's usually best to state the terms simply, dearie," Gold murmured. "Also, a deal is a deal; a plea is a plea. You'll find you have better results if you don't confuse the two."

"I'm sort of new at this," Emma muttered as they separated their hands once more.

"Obviously. Normally, I'd have you refine your parameters a bit more plainly, but you're quite right; time's of the essence. The staff will awaken soon and we should be well away before that happens." He gestured toward the cell door and it closed soundlessly, sealing them in.

Zelena watched silently, looking as though she would have given anything to have her magic back.

"She'll find her voice again in a half hour or so," Gold remarked.

"It won't really matter one way or the other," Belle replied, sounding detached. "Trust me, the staff here aren't exactly interested in carrying on a conversation with any of the patients on this level."

Gold nodded and took her hand in his. He gripped Emma's elbow in his free hand. Just before the purple smoke swirled about them, Emma saw Bell squeeze Gold's hand in return.

A moment later, Zelena was alone in the cell.

* * *

The lake was deserted at this hour, but the water gleamed silver beneath the stars. A wind was blowing and Belle slid her hand out of Gold's and slipped his suit jacket over his shoulders.

"I…" Emma started hesitantly. "I don't mind carrying the fake dagger around. Seriously. I wouldn't mind knowing why you bothered, but I guess that's more something I'd _like_ to know than something I _have_ to."

For a moment, she thought Gold was going to let her statement pass without comment. Then, staring intently at a fixed point on the lake, he said, "When you control something, you need no longer fear it."

"I don't understand," Belle said, taking the words out of Emma's mouth.

Gold seemed to shrink under the jacket. "I've no intention of allowing myself to be controlled again," he said tightly. "But it occurred to me that there might be some benefit in allowing you to think otherwise." Still not looking at either of them, he continued speaking. "You both have some idea of the sort of power I wield. After these last few days, you've a clearer picture of what I could do if I chose to. That sort of demonstration tends to make people uncomfortable. You can ask Ruby about her first full moon after the curse broke if you'd like further corroboration. I gave you that copy so that the town would believe that you could keep me in check, if need be. I thought it might help to… smooth things over. And, of course, with the dagger's existence now common knowledge, were anyone to try to steal the copy from you to attempt to enslave me, I've no doubt that you'd warn me immediately that something was afoot."

Belle slid an arm about his shoulders and he let out a long breath.

Emma took the fake dagger out of her purse. "How many more of these can you make?" she asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

Emma shrugged. "Flooding the town with copies isn't really a bad idea. It looks like our biggest threats lately have been coming from outsiders who know something of magic, if not the dagger specifically. I'm guessing you can probably pick out the real dagger without any trouble?"

Gold nodded.

"So, what if there were a few dozen fakes out there, just to confuse people who have no business knowing about the real one in the first place?" She shrugged. "Forget about pretending to give up the real one. Stuff like that has a way of coming out and when it does, it's always worse. Given enough time, I think most people will come around. I'm not saying it won't be slow. The town didn't warm up to Regina overnight." She smiled. "Actually, when I got back here from New York, they were just about ready to crucify her because she cast the first Dark Curse so she was the prime suspect for casting the second one."

"Oh?" Gold seemed to brighten. "Pity I missed it."

Emma rolled her eyes. Belle made a disapproving sound.

"Seriously," Emma added, "do you really think folks are going to blame you for wanting to hang onto that thing after what happened when Zelena got it? The people who matter know you wouldn't have torn up Main Street or tried to attack us if she hadn't been controlling you. The people who think otherwise won't be convinced you're not working against us, even if you do convince them that someone else has the real dagger." She sighed. "Think back to everything you and Henry and August did to try to get me to believe in magic. August was turning into wood and I couldn't see it, for crying out loud. And yeah. Some people in town are going to be just that thick—so adamant that you won't be able to change that even if you pulled off what Regina did in the middle of that fight and started wielding light magic, they'd assume it was a trick. Forget them. Every village has its idiot. Every town has a committee of 'em."

Gold snorted.

"Most people will come around in time," she repeated.

"And when I fail, they'll be the first to gloat."

"No, those'll be those idiots I was talking about." Emma sighed. "Right when you and August upped your game to try to make a believer out of me, I got so freaked out by it I… called Henry late at night, told him to meet me outside his house and tried to leave town with him."

Gold's eyes widened. "I never knew that."

"Yeah, the only people who knew were me, Henry, and Mary Margaret—who read me the riot act when I came back."

"Why did you?" Gold asked curiously.

Emma sighed. "Henry steered me off the road and into a ditch, just before the town line. He begged me to take him home, so I did. See… Regina called it when Sidney dug up his dirt on me. I never put down any real roots until I came here. When stuff got too intense for me to handle, I reverted to type and tried to run. My point is, yes. You're probably not going to get this right, right from the start. You want me to be blunt? You're going to fail. Just like I did. Just like Regina has. Just like you must have in the past—unless you want to tell me that one day in your lab or castle or whatever you scribbled out the Dark Curse on a paper napkin and got it right on the first try."

 _That_ actually earned her a genuine laugh. "Hardly," Gold retorted.

"Right. Failure is normal, _especially_ when you're trying to break an old pattern. And yeah, depending on how bad it is, I might blow up at you for a while before I remember I'm supposed to be supportive. I still don't get everything right all the time. What's important is what you do after you fail. I came back. I could have left Henry on his doorstep and driven off to Boston on my own. Or any other place, for that matter. I didn't, but I was tempted. And I did drive around town for a few hours, until I made up my mind. So, Mary Margaret was awake and furious when I finally walked back through her door. Anyway. I'm guessing that when you created the Dark Curse, you didn't drop the idea the first time you hit a setback."

"Nor the five hundredth," Gold admitted softly.

"What happened tonight," Belle interjected, "was a mistake. And that's all it was."

"Had you not happened on me at that moment," Gold replied, shifting slightly toward her, "it could have been more."

"Had you not gotten down to the mine in time to pull the cart back, I would have been wandering through the woods with no idea who I was. Had you not given me the potion to restore my memories, I would still be playing pool at the Rabbit Hole and wondering why I felt so… empty inside." She clasped his hand tightly. "Things could have happened differently. They didn't. And, since Zelena's spell failed, there's no going back and changing anything now. For better or worse, this is what it is and it's all we have to work with."

The wind started up again and Emma pulled her leather jacket about her more tightly. A moment later, she realized that, while the branches still lashed back and forth and the surface of the lake ruffled, she no longer felt the chill and her hair had stopped blowing in her face. She looked at Gold and Belle and noticed the same phenomenon. "Did you just…?"

Gold shrugged. "It's simple enough to do. Given time, I daresay you'll manage it."

"Maybe. But not tonight. Thanks."

"You parked near the hospital, I presume."

Emma nodded.

"I'll send you back there. And Emma… I suppose I may as well take the replica back for now."

"Sure," Emma replied, passing the linen-wrapped bundle over. A moment later, she was standing by her Beetle alone. She sighed. "Good night, Gold," she muttered, getting into the car. As she fastened her seatbelt, purple smoke surrounded her again. "Hey," she exclaimed. "What the…?" When the smoke cleared, she found herself parked outside Granny's. Suspiciously, she checked the back seat, half-expecting to find Gold sitting there, but she was alone. "Thanks," she called, wondering if he could hear her.

She was smiling as she climbed the steps to her room.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, it was past eight—later than she usually slept, but earlier than she'd thought after the events of the night before. She showered and dressed quickly and made her way downstairs. As she pushed open the door, she found Pete comfortably ensconced on one of the wicker chairs on the porch, reading the morning's _Mirror_. She smiled a greeting at him, which grew broader when she saw Henry and Leonora sitting on the wooden steps, in deep conversation.

"Well, let's face it," Leonora was laughing, "having a sightseeing bus going by the motel with some guy with a megaphone saying 'And on your left, you'll see the man who hasn't aged a day in nearly sixty years and in another five minutes, we'll be at the beach where, if you're very lucky, you might catch a glimpse of the dragon—oops! Probably not; he's mostly invisible, these days…' isn't exactly going to bring the tourists out in droves. The dragon store's pretty cool, though."

Henry smiled. "Have they got anything there that looks like Elliott?"

"Not a lot," Leonora admitted. "Most of what's in the store is stuff the Chamberses make themselves. But the real Elliott looks a little too much like the one in the movie, so they're worried that they'll get sued for selling unlicensed knockoffs. And if the only way to prove they aren't would be for them to show the court the real Elliott—that would probably cause all kinds of other problems. They have a few of the official things: porcelain statues, plushies, I think they have a couple of lunchboxes behind the counter. They're collector's items. But the Chamberses always say their business is 'all things dragon'. The movie stuff sort of gets lost in the shuffle."

She tilted her head to one side. "So… somehow, I get the feeling living here isn't like living in a theme park where you can ride around in Cinderella's coach all day."

Henry laughed at that. "No, mostly it's pretty normal. I mean, except when it isn't. Which is…" He thought for a minute. "Okay, maybe that's most of the time, now. It's still home. More than New York ever was."

"You've lived in New York?" Leonora exclaimed. "Get out! What's _that_ like?"

Emma smiled. She was about to announce her presence, when Belle came up the walk with a worried expression on her face.

"Belle?" Emma asked. She looked down at the two children. "Morning, kids." Then she frowned, only half-listening to their response in kind. "What's wrong?"

Belle took a deep breath. "I… think I need to ask you something. Could we talk in your room?"

Emma shrugged. "Sure, I guess." She glanced around at the others. "If you'll excuse me?"

* * *

Emma had no sooner closed the door to her motel room than Belle took a deep breath. "This… this isn't easy for me to ask, but I think I need to."

Emma nodded, waiting. "Um… okay?"

Belle took a deep breath. "Is there… anything going on between you and Rumple?" she asked at a rush.

Emma blinked. "What?"

"It took so long for him to open up to me, even a little," Belle said. "And last night, you… you figured out what was happening before I did and you were able to talk him down. You seem to be able to connect with him in a way that I can't. So… this is on my mind and I need to know the truth."

Emma shook her head. "No. I care about him. And, I'd say that over the last little while, we've definitely gotten closer, but I promise you, we're friends. That's all."

Belle frowned. "But then, how is it that he…?"

Emma considered. "Do you want to know what I think?" she asked. "And keep in mind, I could be wrong. This is… probably me thinking about what would motivate _me_ to pull some of the stuff he does."

Belle nodded. "Since that apparently helped you get through to him last night, tell me."

"Okay. Just… hear me out." Emma took a deep breath. "All right. It's no secret that you've broken things off with him a few times."

Belle frowned. "Only when he's done things behind my back, or when he's—"

"I know," Emma interrupted. "But that's the thing. He loves you. He doesn't want to lose you. Maybe he's worried that if he's honest about what he's feeling and it's not what you want to hear, you'll walk away again. Me? If I blow up at him, I'm just siding with the rest of the town, like I have before. I think he might be a bit disappointed, but my rejecting him wouldn't hurt him nearly as badly." She watched as Belle's expression relaxed somewhat. "Sometimes, it's just easier to confide in someone whose opinion doesn't mean as much to you."

Belle sighed. "Maybe. But then, what am I supposed to do? Turn a blind eye if he reverts back to darkness?"

"Is that what you think I did at the hospital?" Emma asked seriously.

"No," Belle admitted, shaking her head. "Not exactly. But, for a moment there, I thought you would have been okay with him killing Zelena."

Emma smiled. "Not really. I wouldn't have been _okay_ -okay with it, but I would have understood. There's a difference. I think…" She frowned, trying to put what was going through her mind into words. "I think I've been through a few things that… make it easier for me to understand where he's coming from. I haven't had the same experiences he's had; how could I? But I've felt a lot of the same… emotions that those experiences awoke in him. I've felt rejected, weak, powerless… I gave up a child, and even though in my case, I did it to give him his best chance, don't think I never felt guilty about losing him. It's true I never gave in to Darkness, but if someone had come to me when I was in my teens and getting kicked out of yet _another_ foster home and feeling like nobody would ever want me, and offered me something like his dagger… I don't know if I could have turned it down."

Belle started to reach out to her and she shook her head. "The thing is," she continued, "I meant what I said last night. Darkness and Evil are related. They aren't the same thing. I think that he's been trying to be a better person—both for you and for Neal. But it's like he's stuck in a rut. And," she smiled, "okay, let's see if I can say this in a way that makes sense. Let's say for the sake of argument, that Good is 'north'. Belle, you're his compass. No matter what happens, you're always pointing him in the right direction. The problem is, a compass isn't a roadmap. It points north, yes. But if you just follow that arrow, you have a direction, but no clear path. Following that arrow can have you cutting across open country, getting bogged down in swamps and quicksand… and if you try to find a way around all those obstacles, you might find yourself headed southeast, or even due south. And before you know it, you're so far off from where you want to be going that it can be easy to give up—especially since every step you take is carrying you farther and farther away from where you want to go and you have no clue how to get back on track. And meanwhile, someone watching might not realize that you're really trying to go north. All they see is that you've gone off in the wrong direction."

Belle nodded her understanding and Emma took another breath. "Now, me? I'm more like his GPS. GPS works with the road you're on. It maps out a course to follow. It's not perfect; sometimes it doesn't know when a bridge is washed out or a road is under construction. And there was the time I hitched a ride with someone who was using it to get from Las Vegas to San Francisco, and the damned box somehow steered him into taking an unnecessary detour through Sacramento. I have no idea how that could have happened. But here's the thing. If you're using GPS and you miss the turn you were supposed to take or you veer off in a different direction, it figures out where you are and it recalculates your route. It might take you a longer way around, but it will get you where you're going." She smiled. "Believe me, he wants to be where you are. I'm just… in a slightly better position to show him how to get there."

Belle exhaled in relief. "I thought that when you went off together, you might have…"

Emma shook her head. "No. We connected, yes. Over Neal and over what I had to learn in order to beat Zelena. And I think we both tried harder to get a grip on our fears; I know I sort of forced myself to keep it together, because I didn't think we could manage if we both panicked at once. Maybe we bonded a bit over that, too. Trying to do what we had to, no matter how scared we felt. Even so, you're the one he's in love with. And while I… guess I've started to see some of what you've been seeing in him for a long time already, I've been in love before and I know that what I'm feeling for Gold isn't the same thing."

Belle nodded. "That being said, how can I be there for him without making it seem like I don't mind his going dark?"

Emma sighed. "I'm still winging that myself. Actually, I'm debating talking to Archie about it. Maybe he can give me a crash course in psychology or a couple of tips; I don't know. I'm going with my instincts and they aren't always on target. But," she added, "there is one thing I read a long time ago that's stuck with me and maybe it's been at the back of my mind through all of this." She frowned. "I don't normally read a lot pop psychology stuff, so all I can think is that I was probably in some doctor's or dentist's waiting room and picked up a magazine. There was an article on… well, it was either on parenting or teaching; it's a little hazy now. But what I got out of it was that people tend to find what they're looking for. In other words, if you're a teacher trying to nip bad behavior in the bud, you're going to find plenty of kids in need of correction. I'm not talking about really bad stuff, like trying to set a building on fire or beating up other kids. That, of course you stop fast. More, stuff like—okay, I remember in one foster home, the people looking after me blamed me for something. I don't remember now if it was something I didn't do or whether it was by accident and they said it was on purpose. Doesn't matter, I guess. I tried to defend myself—and I got accused of mouthing off and found myself in more trouble. Or, another time, I was trying to bake a cake for my foster mother's birthday, but I didn't do the greatest job cleaning the kitchen. My foster mother ignored the fact that I was trying to do something nice for her, and focused on the mess."

"I understand," Belle nodded again. "That must have hurt."

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "Getting back to the article," she continued, "if, you're looking to encourage good behavior, then you're attuned to every little improvement and you comment on it. So, with the cake example, let's say my foster mother had thanked me for washing and putting away the bowls and utensils and told me the cake smelled great. And then she'd told me that cleaning up also meant wiping down the counters and sweeping the floor. Okay, maybe I would have thought she was being a little picky, but I wouldn't have felt like tossing the cake in the garbage in front of her." She sighed. "And I wouldn't have felt like nothing I did would ever be good enough; I'd probably have thought that I was on the right track and I'd just missed a couple of steps."

Belle sighed. "I… don't think I've been handling things properly until now."

"I don't think many people in town have either. Me included," Emma admitted. "I'm trying to do better, but like I said last night, failing is normal."

"But you aren't giving up."

"That's right."

"Emma, if you do talk to Archie, will you let me know what he says?"

Emma grinned. "Sure." She took another breath. "Have you had breakfast, yet?"

Belle shook her head.

"Well, let's get some. And maybe if Henry, Leonora, and Pete are still downstairs, they can join us."

"Unless Henry and Leonora would rather be alone…" Belle ventured.

Emma's grin broadened. "So, I'm not the only one who noticed it," she said.

Belle matched Emma's smile with one of her own. "I'd say it's likely a relief for each of them to have someone their own age to talk to."

"You're probably right. But we can still invite them."

Belle laughed.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

The porch was empty when Belle and Emma got downstairs, but they spied Pete and the kids at Granny's restaurant in a booth for four. Henry and Leonora were in deep conversation and Emma motioned to Belle to join her at the counter instead. "I'll talk to him later," she said in an undertone. "Right now, the only thing that needs grilling is the cheese sandwich I'm ordering."

Belle smiled at that.

"So," Emma said, after Ruby had taken both their orders, "How much do you know about these hearings? Are they like trials, or…?"

Belle considered. "They can be," she allowed, "but in a situation like this one, where there's no question of the defendant's guilt, it's really just to determine the sentence. Zelena probably won't be present until that's settled, and then, it'll be just to hear what's been decided before it's carried out."

"So, what, we all just sit around and discuss it until we agree?"

Belle nodded. "Generally, there's a certain formality to it. The level of decorum really depends on the participants, though. I know that when my father held them, those involved tended to be elderly," she giggled, "usually stuffy nobles who enjoyed the sounds of their own voices rather more than the task at hand. They loved protocol and could spend close to an hour just determining the seating arrangements. I… have the feeling that there'll be less of that this outing."

Emma considered that. "Anything else?"

Belle shook her head. "Not really. Rumple knows the actual laws, but I have the feeling it's rather like the town charter, in that people don't look them up very often and, over time, certain procedures have probably been streamlined or abandoned. Mostly, people just sit and discuss what needs to be done. Sometimes, one person is chosen to start and then it proceeds clockwise, with everyone having their say. Sometimes, it goes by ranking. Sometimes, there's no set order and people jump in when they have something to say. If things get too out of hand, there's usually someone designated to call for order and get things back on track. Normally, it would be your parents, but Rumple told me that they mean to recuse themselves?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "Unless the council's deadlocked."

Belle frowned, thinking. "In that case, I'm thinking that it probably would be someone non-partisan and generally well-liked. Probably, someone like Archie. He's been on previous council meetings. He wasn't personally affected by anything Zelena did, I don't think—though he'd be aware, of course."

"That's true," Emma agreed. "With the damage she caused on Main Street—and Regina told me what happened at that first duel, too—a lot of people probably got shaken up. It wouldn't shock me to hear that Archie's counseling schedule recently got a lot tighter and that he's been getting an earful from people who were more directly impacted."

"You're right," Belle sighed. "But he's still the closest to neutral we're likely to find."

Emma frowned. "That means that if I want to talk to him about what we were discussing earlier, I should probably do that soon. I mean, if my parents needed me to move out so it wouldn't look like I was trying to influence their decision, then once the hearing is scheduled, I'm betting that if I'm spotted going to and from the office of the… what? Moderator?"

Belle nodded. "Close enough."

"Moderator," Emma repeated, "then that might also look as if I'm trying to sway him over to my line of thinking."

Belle nodded again. "It wouldn't be quite as serious. The council exists purely in an advisory capacity. Your parents are choosing to accept whatever recommendations it might make, but they can change their minds and take over at any time. While that doesn't happen very often, it has before. Now, if you were to approach your parents privately and convince them to halt the proceedings and rule according to your advice, it wouldn't be… well-received." She smiled. "Once the wheels are set in motion, it's expected that the council will see matters through to the end. The moderator's powers really just extend to making sure the whole procedure runs smoothly. If, for example, all council members are given a certain number of minutes to express their views, I suppose that, at the moderator's discretion, that time could be lengthened or shortened. If rules are being disregarded, or unevenly enforced—say, Archie were to give you twice as long to speak as any of the others—it would be noted, and not favorably. But it still wouldn't be as bad as if you tried to influence the final arbiters—in this case, your parents."

"I understand," Emma said. "Okay. Gold is going to be coming by the motel this afternoon to teach me a bit more about this. If you want to get involved, I'll take all the help I can get."

Belle smiled. "That's probably a good idea. Rumple may know the rules, but… he never sat on any of those meetings. Not today, though," she added. "The elementary school wants to introduce the younger grades to the library and I'll be taking them on a tour this afternoon."

Emma nodded. "Have fun," she smiled. "I'll talk to Archie this morning, while things are still quiet."

* * *

Dr. Archibald Hopper listened patiently while Emma talked, filling in her pauses with "uh-huhs" and "mm-hmms". Several times his professional demeanor fell away enough for her to register surprise and once, she even thought she'd stunned him. When she was finished, he smiled.

"It sounds as though you've learned a good deal," he said. "I hope you know I'm not only referring to your magic."

Emma nodded. "The thing is, I'm terrified of saying the wrong thing and messing this up. I've been going with my instincts, trying to put myself in his shoes, and every time I get through to him, I'm left thanking my lucky stars that something I said somehow struck the right chord. Next time, I might not do as well. So, I was wondering if you had any tips, or if there was some textbook…?"

Archie cleared his throat. "Um… well… Emma, you know this is a little awkward for me since, well, as you're aware, my medical qualifications were given to me with the curse. Now I do have memories—false memories—of going through college, and medical school, followed by a four-year residency in Portland, before opening my practice here. However, as you well know, I don't actually have those credentials. So, my telling you that if you have an interest in psychology, the best thing I can recommend is that you enrol in courses—and you can take many of them online these days, I realize that it... um... might sound a bit hypocritical—"

"Yeah," Emma cut him off, "but that's going to take time. I need to know how to help Gold now. I was looking for a few pointers or some kind of self-help book or…"

"Something that might teach you, in a couple of hours, how to be an effective therapist?" Archie asked, smiling. "I'm sorry, Emma. There's nothing like that. But then, I don't think that's what Rumpelstiltskin needs from you."

Emma blinked. "Sorry?"

Archie was still smiling. "If Rumpelstiltskin wants a therapist, he knows where my office is. Like anyone else in town, he's more than welcome to call or stop by to schedule an appointment, if that's what he chooses. But I don't think he's looking for you to fill that role."

Emma frowned. "He's… opened up to me over the last little while. A lot. Not just about Neal. About his past, and… and managing fear and… Isn't that, sort of, the kind of stuff you talk about in therapy?"

"It can be," Archie nodded. "But those are also topics that come up with people we trust." He paused for a beat. "With _friends_ , Emma. And I don't believe that Rumpelstiltskin has had many of those in his life. Obviously, without my sitting down and talking with him, I can't say for certain that that's what he wants from you, but I'd think it seems likely."

Emma closed her eyes. "I'm just… so afraid I'm going to mess this up."

"That's understandable. In fact," he added gently, "as you're no doubt aware, it's a pretty common fear whenever one is about to venture into new territory."

Emma's eyes opened wide and she smiled ruefully. "Like I told him last night."

"I think you also mentioned that you let him know that there was a good chance you'd continue to make mistakes in the future."

"Yeah," Emma admitted, "but I was sort of hoping not to."

"Hope," Archie grinned, "is a wonderful thing, Emma. But it's a wish for the future. Meanwhile, you're here in the present. It sounds like you've been giving Rumpelstiltskin a certain amount of slack. Spare some for yourself. You're allowed to make a few wrong choices, too."

Emma let out a long breath. Then she stood up and extended her hand for Archie to shake. "Thanks," she said.

"Stop by any time, Emma." Then he frowned. "Well, probably not during the hearing, unless it's a real emergency."

Emma grinned.

* * *

She was walking up the steps to the motel's front door, when she heard her mother calling her name. She turned to see both of her parents headed toward her, with Regina a half-step behind. All three wore serious expressions.

"Mom? Dad?" she asked. "What's happened?"

She'd seen her parents angry before, but their ire had seldom been directed toward her. "When were you going to tell us about last night?" David demanded.

Emma blinked. "Sorry?"

"The hospital security cameras showed something interesting on the lower level, at around ten o'clock," Regina said, almost too calmly.

Emma exhaled. "I can explain."

"We're all ears," David replied tersely.

"Things got intense last night, after the party. It could have been worse, but… Belle and I talked him down before it did. I don't think it'll happen again."

"You don't think…?" Regina repeated. "As I understand it, Rumple gave his word that he wasn't going to take matters into his own hands with Zelena. And not even twelve hours later, he's breaking into the hospital's secured wing to get to her? How can you expect us to trust him after that?"

Emma closed her eyes. "I know," she admitted. "I can't expect it. But I'm still going to ask. Whatever it was he went there to do to Zelena, he didn't do it. He didn't break his word. I know how bad it looks, but…" She opened her eyes very wide as a new thought struck her. "Hold on. How long was he with Zelena before Belle and I got there?"

Her parents looked puzzled at her question, but they glanced back at Regina for the answer. Regina hesitated. "From the timestamp on the footage," she said, "it was something on the order of fifteen minutes."

Emma broke into a smile. "Fifteen minutes," she repeated.

"I don't understand why you look so happy about it," Snow said.

Emma's smile grew wider. "Don't you get it? The staff was unconscious. Zelena was powerless. If Gold had really wanted to do something to her, he would have done it and been long gone before we showed up." She took another breath. "I don't think Gold went to the hospital to kill Zelena. I think he went there looking for a reason _not_ to."

"Our pact wasn't enough?" David asked.

Emma sighed. "I think it almost was." She looked at the ground for a moment. "Sorry. I was just remembering something I told Belle last night when we were driving to the hospital. I…" She sighed. "I don't know if there's anything that we could have, or should have, done differently yesterday. But when you go through life with a certain self-image—rootless drifter, Dark One," she cast an apologetic glance at Regina, "Evil Queen… it's… not so easy to walk away from it, even when people are trying to give you another chance." She sighed. "When I was eighteen and just out of prison, my parole officer helped me find a job. It wasn't much—just waitressing in some greasy spoon on the outskirts of Phoenix—but, with tips, it paid enough so I could rent a small place and barely cover expenses. I wanted to make a fresh start. And for about eight months—two months after my parole ended—it worked. Then my boss told me she wanted to make me an assistant manager, because I was, quote, 'the most reliable worker she had'." Emma sighed. "That evening, I got into my car and started driving. When I stopped, I was in Carson City, Nevada. I never gave notice. Never even called to let my boss know I'd left town."

"I don't get it," David admitted.

"I do," Regina said. "Your boss's perception of you didn't line up with your self-image and you… took it upon yourself to correct her thinking, rather than change yours."

Emma nodded. "I think that's what happened last night. Maybe it was too much, too fast. Maybe over the last couple of weeks, after everything that happened to him, after losing Neal, when I found him in the woods and got him out of town, Gold's… walls… were down enough for me to see another side of him. I don't know. Maybe things were just… going a little too well and he got nervous."

"So, he had to remind us that he's the Dark One," Snow said.

"I…" Emma blinked. "Wait. No. If that's what it was, then he had plenty of time to prove it before Belle and I got there." Her eyes opened wide. "What if I guessed wrong? What if he didn't go there to prove that the Darkness still controlled him, but to test if maybe it didn't?"

* * *

Emma wasn't surprised to see Belle standing next to Gold behind the counter when they marched into his shop. She'd texted both of them to let them know what was happening. What surprised her was the weary resignation in Gold's eyes. Always before, he'd managed to appear in control in these familiar surroundings, even when they were sure they had him dead to rights. At David's abrupt, "We need to talk," he seemed to shrink behind the counter.

"Yes," he admitted. "I imagine we do."

"That is you on the hospital security cameras, right?" Snow asked. "Not someone else under a glamor spell?"

Gold shook his head. "As much as I wish I could make that claim," he said bleakly, "no."

"Wait," Snow said. "You mean… that's it? You're not even going to try to explain?"

"I can't refute the evidence," Gold admitted. "Any explanation I could provide would ring hollow."

David started forward. "I don't understand," he said furiously. "We made a pact. I thought your word meant something."

"It _does_!" Gold shot back with a bit of his own heat. He drew a shuddering breath. "It… does."

"Doesn't seem much like it to me," David muttered.

"Why did you go there anyway, last night?" Regina asked curiously.

Gold regarded her for a moment. "Isn't it obvious?" he demanded.

"No," Regina shook her head, sparing Emma a sidelong glance. "Not really. Not when you essentially stood facing her for close to fifteen minutes without doing anything more than casting a silencing spell. It's… if I didn't know better…" She took a breath. "Actually, I do know better, Rumple. I don't know what you were doing there, but you weren't looking to kill her. You were waiting for Belle and Emma to show up."

Gold closed his eyes. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, softly, he admitted, "Not specifically. But their arrival was neither unwelcome nor unexpected." Belle clasped his hand in hers and he took another breath, opened his eyes, and locked them with David's. "I gave my word to you yesterday," he said. "And I had every intention of keeping it. But after what she did to me…" He covered the back of Belle's hand with his other one, sandwiching it between them. "I wanted to see her caged and powerless, as she'd had me. That was all I intended to do last night. Watch her through the door for a moment and leave. I knew that my presence would evoke your questions and suspicions, so I stunned the staff on that level before they could detect me. I didn't think about the cameras," he sighed. "An oversight."

David blinked. He and Snow exchanged a quick glance. "What happened then?" Snow asked gently.

Gold took another breath. "I slid back the panel in the door and she looked at me. Recognized my eyes through the slot. And…" His voice broke. "She started laughing. Taunting me. I-I told myself it was bluster, that it meant nothing, that she was in there and I was outside. And then… she mocked Bae's sacrifice."

Emma sucked in her breath. Belle brought her free hand to Gold's shoulder. Regina closed her eyes, while Snow and Charming shook their heads.

Gold leaned heavily against the counter. "I made a deathbed promise to my boy that I'd make the witch pay," he whispered. "But I also gave my word to you. I didn't want to go back on either. I should have just walked away, I-I know _that_ ," he admitted. "Part of me wanted to. But," his voice turned cold, "not with her taunts ringing in my ears. Not when she had me thinking that even without the dagger she still had power over me." The menace in his tone seemed to drain away. "I couldn't." His shoulders slumped. "I don't remember opening her cell. I don't know why I bothered. I could've just transported myself inside. I didn't want to hear her anymore, so I cast the silencing spell. And then…" He glanced at Regina. "I don't recall how long I stood there, debating. You say it was fifteen minutes. It felt like longer, and yet, like no time at all. I was trying," he took a breath, "to find some way of keeping both oaths, even though I knew there wasn't one. In the end, I told her that she would decide her fate when the spell wore off. If she pled for her life, I would take satisfaction from that and wait for the council meeting. If she asked for death, I would cheerfully oblige." He looked from Belle to Emma. "The two of you arrived shortly afterwards."

"But you walked away in the end," Snow said. Emma blinked. There had been just a hint of a smile in her mother's voice.

Gold nodded. "Your daughter reminded me of the one thing I'd lost sight of in all of this. Bae would never have countenanced what I wanted to do. He would have seen it as disgrace, not honor. I… wouldn't do that to him," he gulped. "I hurt him enough while he was alive."

Emma's eyes burned and she wiped them on her sleeve. Something soft pressed into her free hand and she realized that Regina had just passed her a tissue.

David brought his hand up to his eyes and massaged his brow. He let out a long breath. "All right," he said finally. "This afternoon," he looked from Emma to Regina, "you'll be placing a protection spell on Zelena's cell." He turned to Gold. "It goes without saying that from this point onward, the lower level of the hospital is off-limits to you. I'll be preparing a restraining order to that effect, which I'll deliver into your hand later today. As a suggestion, if you don't have business at the hospital, avoid the building altogether. And Gold," David sighed again, "if you do feel a need to confront her again, talk to one of us. We can set something up. With supervision, to make sure things don't get out of hand on either side. Clear?"

Gold gaped at him. "Is that… everything?" he asked faintly.

David took a step toward him. "It doesn't appear as though there was any real harm done last night. In fact, from what you've told us, it might have been the opposite. Your oath is intact and… it sounds as though there was some provocation for your actions. Let's just say that some errors in judgment were made and, so long as they won't be repeated, I don't see a need to take things any further." He glanced at his wife. "Snow?"

Snow shook her head. Regina lowered hers in acknowledgment.

"One other thing," David continued. " _If_ anyone here learns of something like this happening again and doesn't report it, I'm stating it now for the record: they will be held to a degree of culpability for anything that might transpire as a result of their silence."

"Got it," Emma murmured, feeling her cheeks grow hot.

"Then if nobody has anything further to add," David smiled for the first time since he'd entered the shop, "I think we're done here."

* * *

Gold was examining a sheet of paper when Emma returned to his shop later that day. It bore the embossed logo of the Storybrooke Sheriff's Department at the top, but there was a wax seal at the bottom—a rhombus superimposed on a rectangular background. In the center of the rhombus, two small birds faced each other, perched on the blade of a longsword. "Is that…?" she ventured.

"The restraining order," Gold nodded. "While, as I understand it, in this land, such would typically be issued by a judge, I imagine that a reigning monarch can fulfill that role—particularly since your parents appear to be the final authorities in any form of judicial hearing here."

"I'm sorry about before."

Gold smiled faintly. "Don't be. It's not just magic that comes with a price, dearie. And… I think we're both aware that your parents would have been within their rights to have exacted a far heavier payment than they chose to."

Emma nodded, knowing what he meant. They could have decided that Gold's actions had voided the pact and let Regina release her sister. They could have insisted that Gold surrender his dagger, or wear one of Pan's cuffs, or go back to that spot in the mines over the town line and had the dwarves build some sort of barrier to keep him there. She remembered how she'd initially thought that the area had looked a lot like his cell in the Enchanted Forest. All it had been missing were the bars. "You okay?"

Gold started to nod. Then he caught himself. "Well," he admitted, "I imagine I'll get there. Now," he bent down and pulled out a large sheet of paper from beneath the counter, "while I enjoyed catching up with my grandson yesterday, unfortunately, we didn't get the opportunity to examine the procedures for the hearing. So…" He quickly sketched a large circle. "Your parents favor informal round-table discussions. While this will be my first time attending one, in the past, I've found ways to keep abreast of the proceedings, so I've a fair idea of how things will work. One advantage to your parents having spent a fair amount of time outside more regal settings is that they haven't quite mastered the skill of speaking for thirty minutes and saying nothing. While it may render them unfit for political careers outside Storybrooke," he added, straight-faced, "you'll find that it will help things move along at a more rapid clip."

"I thought they weren't going to be present for most of it," Emma said.

"They won't," Gold agreed. "But they will call the council to order and their behavior will set the tone. Also, I think you'll find that most of the other people at the table will be quick to speak their minds without couching their words in flowery language and metaphor." He sighed. "While getting at the heart of the matter is to be lauded, one can't help but lament the loss of a certain elegance to the proceedings. Ah, well. "Now," he continued briskly, "as far as how to present your views…"

The bell over the shop door rattled and Leroy burst in. "I bring news!" he bellowed.

Gold's eyebrows shot up. "What?" he asked mildly. "No indication as to whether it's good or terrible?"

For answer, Leroy held out two legal-sized white envelopes, their flaps sealed in red wax with the same emblem that Emma had spied on Gold's restraining order. "Guess it depends on how you feel about long meetings," he replied, taking no offense. "Council meeting, one week from today, town hall, ten sharp." Seeing Emma frown and check whether the seal on her letter was intact, he scowled. "I didn't read yours, sister. I got one, too. Hey, is Belle here?"

Gold shook his head. "She's at the library. I can take that for her," he said, holding out his hand.

Leroy took a rapid step back. "I got to give it to her in person, Gold. Just like I'm doing for you. See you next week, if not sooner." The bell tinkled again as he raced out.

Gold took a deep breath. "Well," he remarked, tapping the paper with his fountain pen, "it appears we've just received further incentive to master this material."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

Neal was done feeding and Snow rested him against her chest, his head over her shoulder, and patted his back gently to burp him. "I hope this is the right thing," she murmured.

David smiled. "According to the baby book, it should be," he said. "Give it a minute or two."

"No," Snow sighed. "About Rumpelstiltskin. Are we doing the right thing by going ahead with the hearing after last night? Did we let him off too easily? Should we have—?"

David matched her sigh with one of his own. "I've been thinking about that myself," he admitted. "But, here's the thing. Whatever it was he almost did to Zelena last night… in the end, he didn't do it. And he didn't stop because we grabbed his dagger or someone hit him with a spell or some squid ink or… whatever. He stopped because Emma was able to talk him down." He shook his head. "I saw that cage in Zelena's cellar. It was about the same size as the one he was in, back in his castle. To be confined like that for weeks… months, even? I'm not sure that if it had been me, I wouldn't have wanted to see my captor in similar circumstances."

"David…"

He circled behind her to smile at the baby. "All I'm saying is that, for the first time in… well, _ever_ , I don't believe that he was playing games with us. He didn't make excuses. He didn't take that 'out' you offered with the glamor spell. And I honestly think that he was more remorseful about nearly violating his oath than regretful about being caught." He took a breath. "Which is probably a first." He exhaled loudly. "I think Emma's been right about him. Add up all the ways he's been helping us for the last little while and it's pretty clear that he has been trying to change. And for the most part, he's been succeeding. Looked at in that light, last night might have been a misstep, but it wasn't an unforgivable one. And," he moved back in front of his wife, sat down, and looked deep into her eyes, "if Gold's managed to climb this far out of Darkness on his own, if he's really trying to turn over a new leaf and we're taking him to task because he thought he was ready for something he wasn't and he _still_ managed to hold back until someone else could talk him down… Granted, he never should have been down there in the first place, but we can't come down on him as harshly as we would if he'd actually gone through with killing her. He had her at his mercy and he backed down. That has to count for something."

Snow nodded. The baby burped.

* * *

Gold was still clutching the envelope tightly in his hand when he transported himself into the basement of his house. He hadn't been down here since before they'd left for Neverland. Over a year ago. Over a lifetime ago, both literally and figuratively. The place was just as he'd left it: flasks, bottles, and laboratory equipment on a long table, and one wall lined with three units of ceiling-to-floor shelves. One such unit was filled with magical ingredients and other spell components, another with potions and powders, and a third—more of a honeycomb than a unit of shelves—with rolled and ribbon-tied scrolls. And in the center of the room, the spinning wheel that had been one of the few objects he'd taken with him when he'd finally forsaken his village for his dark castle.

The great wheel had come over in the First Curse, though at the time, with no recollection of his true self, he'd thought it a mere antique to be restored before he could put it out for sale in the shop. It had never left his basement. With his limp, carrying it up the stairs would have been difficult and he'd told himself that the piece would be too fragile to risk moving—even with a professional crew to do the labor—particularly since he doubted that he'd find a buyer for it. And it would have taken up too much space in the shop. He supposed that, despite the curse, despite his false memories, he simply hadn't wanted to part with it. He could still recall deciding to test the wheel to ensure that it was still useable. Even under the curse, he'd found spinning to be a relaxing hobby—though, of course, he'd spun fleece into yarn, not straw into gold then. After everything that had happened recently, he needed to relax. Smiling, he drew near to the spinning wheel…

…And with every step he took, his smile shrank. He seemed to hear musical mocking laughter. _Spin, Rumple, if it clears your mind. I need it in fine working order… along with the rest of your beautiful brain._ There was a basket of straw, gleaming pale under the fluorescent lights. He started to reach for it, but his hand froze. _Spin faster, dearie! Chop, chop!_ With mounting horror, he stepped back so quickly that he nearly stumbled. No. No, no, no, this was supposed to be his respite, his coping method… He couldn't let her take it from him! He gazed fully on the spinning wheel and shuddered as he again felt an iron fetter dig into his ankle.

With an angry cry, he gestured forcefully at the wheel and it disintegrated into a pile of dust. As it did, he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his chest. What had he done? Next to Bae's cloak, that wheel was the closest thing he had to a family heirloom. And he'd destroyed it. Just like he destroyed everything else of value in his life, sooner or later. Bellowing incoherently, he ran to the table and pushed against it, overturning it. Flasks, beakers, and test tubes spilled off and shattered on the cement floor. He wasn't done, yet. He needed to break something else. Some vestige of reason held him back from attacking the shelves. If he destroyed any of those items, he might never be able to replace them. Instead he raced upstairs.

There was a fireplace in his study, one he seldom used, but he kindled it now. His eye fell on one of the shelves of the entertainment center. Stacks of old _National Geographic_ magazines seemed to look back at him, their yellow spines bright. He swept them to the floor and began kicking them toward the fireplace. His foot came down on one of them and he stumbled and fell heavily to the ground.

For a moment or two, he lay there, catching his breath. The carpet of magazines wasn't particularly comfortable, but he'd rested on far worse and recently. A quick mental assessment told him that he wasn't really hurt. He wasn't certain he'd even given himself a paper cut. With a groan, he pushed himself up, trying to stand without shifting the volumes beneath his feet. When he realized that he might have a slight problem, he half-slid, half-crawled over to the desk and braced against it to pull himself up.

His eyes fell on something atop the desk blotter and widened. How had that…? He remembered now: after breakfast with the Nolans yesterday, David had given him back everything of his they'd retrieved from the mines. The camping equipment was in the garage. He'd put away the clothes. And he'd set the loom here on the desk.

A small smile played on his face. Truth be told, it wasn't much of a loom. It was a toy for a hobbyist, suitable for small projects like scarves and hatbands, not the wide bolts of woolen cloth he'd woven back in his peasant days. But when he reached out to touch it, there was no mocking voice shrilling commands in his ear, no memories of reaching for straw after straw until he could barely feel his fingers anymore, no spiteful clink of iron chain.

It wasn't as though he needed a large project to keep himself occupied. Perhaps, starting small was exactly what he ought to be doing. He moved around behind the desk, sat down, and pulled the loom closer. He wasn't sure what had happened to the piece he'd started down in the mines, but that hadn't been a real project, so much as it had been a way of testing out this new style of loom and learning how it differed from the varieties he was used to.

The plastic Wal-Mart bag was on a corner of the desk, filled with the hanks and skeins of yarn that Emma had chosen. He suspected she'd probably selected one of each offering, and while little of it was of high quality, there were several rainbows' worth of colors. Thoughtfully, he chose a rich purple skein and slid off the paper wrapper. The smile on his face grew slightly broader. Given the dimensions of the loom, he doubted that a single piece of fabric would be wide enough. He'd need two—perhaps even three. But he still had several debts to pay. And a blanket for the child who bore his son's name seemed a fitting way to start on them.

He pressed his lips together and began setting up the warp threads.

* * *

Leonora crumbled up the bread crusts she'd carefully removed from her sandwich earlier and tossed them out into the ocean. Several harlequin ducks, which had been eying her hopefully from a rocky spur flew after the treat. She grinned. "Just like home."

Henry smiled. "I thought you were excited to be someplace that wasn't like your home."

"I am," Leonora insisted. "But I'm kind of glad that the ducks still act like they're supposed to, instead of… oh, I don't know, turning into princes for an hour every night until someone makes them each a shirt. Oh. Wait." She slapped her forehead lightly. "Those were swans, right?"

"I think so," Henry said. "But sometimes some of the stories play out a little differently. Maybe they _were_ ducks. Still, most of the animals who came over from the Enchanted Forest became people once they got here. Like Dr. Hopper, for example."

Leonora sighed. "I get that most people probably wouldn't want me running up to them and asking about it. I mean, I know I'm annoying sometimes, but I'm not _that_ annoying. And," she sighed, "I guess I know how I'd feel if someone showed up in Passamaquoddy and kept asking about Elliott and how much the movie got right. But I'm still curious."

"I think I can help with that," Henry ventured. He shrugged out of his backpack and unzipped it. "See, a while back, Mrs. Nolan gave me this book. Well, back then, she was Ms Blanchard. And I didn't know she was Snow White."

"Or Emma's mother?" Leonora asked.

"Yeah. But anyway, this book tells the real stories of the people who came here from the Enchanted Forest. That's most of the people in town. Not everyone… Dr. Whale's really Dr. Frankenstein; he's from a different realm. But… most people."

Leonora reached out tentatively and touched the cover of the book. "Wow." Her face fell. "I wish we weren't going back tomorrow. I'll never finish it by then." She sighed. "And I heard people talking about a hearing?"

Henry nodded. "Now that Zelena's been defeated, we have to figure out what to do with her. Regina wants to give her another chance. Mr. Gold doesn't."

"And what about you?"

Henry sighed. "I think that second chances need to be earned. Or, if not earned, at least there should be some reason to think they'll take." He told her about how Elliott had saved him at the town line.

Leonora's eyes grew huge. "Were you scared?"

"A little," Henry admitted. "I mean, I knew my moms would save me. Or I thought they would; I didn't know Elliott was around. But Zelena did have me pretty high up in the air. And then, she tossed Regina into a tree. So… yeah," he lowered his eyes. "I guess I was pretty scared."

"I guess I probably would've been, too," Leonora said, after a moment. She sighed. "I wish we could stay longer. Now, I'm going to be wondering about the book and wondering about the hearing and…" she sighed again, "probably wondering if you'll ever show up in Passamaquoddy one day, so I could show you around. I guess it'd probably be kind of boring compared to this town… or _New York_ , but we've got a few things worth seeing."

Henry was silent for a moment. Then he pulled out his cell phone and tapped the screen a few times. "Uh…" he ventured, "if you want me to fill you in, I mean after the hearing and all, if you give me your phone number and email, I can tell you about it. I don't know about getting to Passamaquoddy. It seems like there's usually some sort of trouble with the town line that keeps us from leaving. But if that's not an issue, then maybe in the summer, or around Christmas break…"

Leonora took the phone with a grin. "Summer," she said decisively. "There's a lot more going on, then. But we can stay in touch during the year. I mean, if you'd like to."

Henry grinned back.

* * *

Pete and Leonora drove back to Passamaquoddy the next day. They presumed that Elliott had flown off, as well—at least, those fishing on the lake noted that they'd caught more bass by noon than they had all weekend. With their departure, preparations for the hearing seemed to move into full swing.

"Don't go for long-winded speeches," Gold cautioned. "They're never welcome." He smiled wryly. "You want to catch and hold everyone's attention. At the same time, overt theatricalities will be summarily shut down."

"Aren't you going to be speaking?" Emma asked.

Gold sighed. "I think, in light of who I am, it would be better you and Belle were to handle that aspect. Keep in mind that even those who might agree with anything I might say are likely to hesitate to side publicly with the Dark One."

Belle shook her head. "It's not right."

"It is what it is," Gold replied. "And we need to acknowledge that such bias will be present and plan our strategy accordingly."

Emma nodded. "Okay. Let's review. We know that Regina wants to give her sister a second chance and her main argument is likely to be that people can change." She took a breath. "And she can point both to herself… and to _you_ as proof."

"And you know the counter-argument for that one," Gold shot back.

Emma nodded again. "I do," she started to say, when Belle spoke up with a worried frown.

"Rumple? If you aren't going to speak… After what Zelena did to you, then…"

Gold shook his head. "How many people in this town do you think will care about that, apart from the two of you and, perhaps, a handful of others? If anything, emphasizing that aspect is likely to hurt our arguments."

"I'm not so sure," Emma replied.

"Because you've managed to prevail on your parents," Gold said, "who mean to recuse themselves from the proceedings, which means that they won't be present and thus, their views on the matter will be nearly incidental." He sighed. "Leave it alone, dearie. Stick to a strategy that might work." He slid the top sheet of paper off the stack before him and turned it over. "Moving along…"

* * *

Two hours later, Belle and Emma departed wearily from Gold's house. "I still think," Belle said, "that he needs to speak about what she did."

Emma nodded. "I think he's wrong about how people would react, but… maybe he's not. If we convince him to open up and it turns out he was right all along, then…"

Belle nodded back. They were almost to Gold's front gate, when she stopped in her tracks.

"Belle?"

"Maybe there's another reason," she said slowly. "What if he thinks telling everyone what she did would make him seem… weak? Someone to be pitied, rather than respected? I… I think he'd rather we all hated him than that."

Emma let out a long breath. "You might have something, there. The problem is, I don't see any way we can convince him otherwise. Again, if it turns out he's right…"

Belle nodded and pushed open the gate. When it didn't close behind them, she shoved it back into place with a bit more force than was required. The almost-slam startled them both. "Sorry!" Belle exclaimed. "I was just thinking about how Regina wants to forgive her for everything she's done," she said, with a touch of anger. "It's one thing to forgive what Zelena did to her personally, but she has no right to make that decision for anyone but herself."

"I know," Emma agreed, as they turned and continued walking down the street. "Actually…" she began, as a thought struck her.

"Emma?" Belle asked.

Emma smiled. "I just had an idea. Only it might be a little too… theatrical."

As she explained, Belle started to giggle. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't think that's going to be too theatrical at all. But we will need to time it right…"

* * *

The Storybrooke Town Hall auditorium had never looked so empty to Emma before. Most of the chairs that had been set out at previous assemblies were stacked against the walls. A large, round conference table occupied the center of the hall, with a number of folding chairs arranged around it. There were also two "show wood" upholstered armchairs, where Snow and Charming sat together. Emma was on her father's left, with Gold next to her. Belle sat on Gold's other side. Next were the dwarfs, and Archie, followed by Phillip and Aurora, Little John, Hook, Robin, and Regina on Snow's right.

Once everyone was seated comfortably, Snow and Charming rose to their feet. At once, everyone followed suit, Emma a trifle more hesitantly. Snow shook her head. "I think we can dispense with that bit of formality here," she remarked, smiling. "Please, be seated." She waited for everyone to obey before she continued. "I would like to thank all of you for coming here today," she said. "We all know the reason for this hearing, so I won't take a lot of time reviewing. We have convened this council in order to obtain your advice in determining what is to be done with Zelena. Ultimately," she covered Charming's hand with her own, "the decision rests with us, but over these next few days, we're soliciting your opinions and advice. With the exception of Dr. Hopper, everyone in this room has been directly affected by Zelena's actions, or has been empowered to speak as proxy for one who has." Emma caught Robin's slight nod and remembered that it had been his son's life that had been threatened when Zelena had sent her monkeys after Regina's heart. "It is our intention to seek a resolution that will be satisfactory to you all. However," her smile faded, "that is something that David and I will leave to you to hammer out. For the time being, we will recuse ourselves from these proceedings. Also," she continued seriously, "before we decided to call this hearing, we had opportunity to hear several opinions as to Zelena's final disposition. Suffice to say that those opinions ranged from a full pardon to summary execution." She took a deep breath. "David and I have discussed this and we've decided that neither extreme is acceptable." She waited for the murmurs to die down. Then she smiled. "We leave it to you to find an option that will be."

David spoke for the first time. "In our absence, Dr. Hopper will moderate these proceedings on our authority. We'll take our leave of you now and wait to hear what you decide. We thank you for your service." He took another breath. "Are there any questions before we depart?"

There were none.

Snow smiled. "Then we'll leave you all to the task." She and David pushed back their chairs. "Oh!" Snow exclaimed. "Lunch will be served at noon and there will be light refreshments at three. I expect that by five or six, most of you will be ready to adjourn. If you decide otherwise, supper can be arranged."

"Hopefully," David added, "this won't take more than a few days, but this is a serious matter and if more time is necessary, it will be provided." He nodded to Archie. "Doctor Hopper, the floor is yours."

They might not have been wearing crowns or ermine robes. Still, as her parents left the hall, Emma once again reflected that even in casual clothing, they were every inch royalty.

* * *

At first, Emma thought that she was going to need to wait until lunch to do what she and Belle had discussed. It wasn't that she was impatient to see it play out, but when Regina rose to explain why she believed that giving Zelena a fresh start was warranted, Emma worried that there would be too long a delay between the speech and the demonstration she and Belle intended to make as a counter-argument. Then, in the middle of the speech Doc started coughing uncontrollably and Archie mentioned that there should be some pitchers and glasses in the kitchen adjoining the main hall. Emma caught Belle's eye and nodded slightly. Belle rose to her feet. "I'll get him some water," she volunteered.

"Actually," Archie said, "if you wouldn't mind, maybe bring back a couple of full pitchers? It might be a good idea to have water on the table for anyone who needs it." He glanced at Regina. "Uh… sorry for the interruption, Madame Mayor."

Regina smiled as Belle trotted off. "Not at all," she replied, raising her voice a bit to be heard over Doc's cough. "I'll wait."

Belle returned several minutes later with a stack of plastic disposable cups and two water pitchers on a tray. She glanced at Emma again, and when Emma nodded confirmation, she headed for Doc's seat, walking slowly, so as not to upset the pitchers.

"As I was saying," Regina went on, "nobody is denying that Zelena has done some terrible things in a very short span of time. However, with the right incentive, people can change. Zelena… reminds me a great deal of the person I used to be. I have to believe that if change was possible for me, it's also possible for her. I realize that pardon is not an option. I'm suggesting probation. The good witch of the south told us that without her gemstone, Zelena's powerless. Just in case that turns out to be a temporary situation, I have no problem with having her wear one of Pan's cuffs—as she's been doing thus far—as an added precaution." She smiled self-consciously. "I, for one, am tired of vengeance, tired of retaliation, tired of trying to get in the last blow. Let's give Zelena her second chance. Let her start fresh, now, today—"

"Oh!" Belle exclaimed, as Doc hastily pushed his chair back in an attempt to avoid a quickly-spreading puddle of water. She righted the cup, too late to salvage its contents. "Doc, I… I'm so sorry."

"That's all right, Belle," Emma spoke up. "Accidents happen."

"Thanks," Belle smiled. "Maybe I ought to just serve everyone," she offered, setting a glass down next to Bashful. She poured that one out more carefully. When it was Happy's turn, though, the stream of water hit the edge of the cup and poured out half into the cup and half on the table. "Oh, no!" she groaned.

"Belle," Emma said, "it's fine. Don't worry about it."

Dopey was Belle's next victim, when she poured a bit too quickly and overflowed the cup. Again, Emma reassured her. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Gold frown. She couldn't say she was surprised. He knew that Belle wasn't usually this clumsy. He had to guess that something was up. By the time Belle reached Archie, her hands were shaking. She smiled in relief when she filled the cup without a hitch and then sucked in her breath and covered her face with her hands when her elbow swept the cup off the table and into Archie's lap.

"It's okay," Emma said. "I forgive you."

Regina shot Emma an angry look. "What do you mean," she demanded, "you forgive her? She didn't dump the water in _your_ lap."

Emma blinked. "Well, yeah," she admitted. "But it's not like she did anything major, right? I mean, it's just water. Why make a big deal over it?"

"That's not the point!" Regina snapped, ignoring Archie's murmur that Emma was right and he was fine. "You can't forgive someone for something they didn't do to y—" She broke off suddenly, as realization struck her full-force.

Emma waited a few seconds before she uttered a quiet rejoinder. "Oh."

Belle set the pitchers down on the table and handed the remaining cups to Philip. "Maybe," she suggested to the prince, "you could just take one and pass the other 'round?"

She looked at Regina. "If you don't want to penalize her for taking your heart and trying to kill you, fine. That's your prerogative. But with regard to what she's done to everyone else?" Belle shook her head. "I'm sorry, Regina. You don't get to decide that for the rest of us."

Librarian and mayor locked eyes for a moment, and it was the mayor who looked away first. For a moment, Belle wondered whether she and Emma hadn't gone a bit too far. Despite what she'd told Emma when the subject had come up, she worried that their ploy might have been a bit too stagy for these proceedings. As she turned to walk back to her seat, though, the appreciative smile on Rumple's face told her it hadn't been.

* * *

Lunch came and went. There was little conversation during the meal. Emma couldn't help noticing that Aurora and Phillip kept glancing in her and Gold's direction. Finally, they approached. "Rumple… _stiltskin_ ," she said softly.

Gold smiled faintly and inclined his head. "So you've found out."

"After you left," Aurora said, "I noticed that the straw you'd spun seemed to be… gold wire."

"Ah."

"It was a bit too soft to use as a lock-pick," the princess added.

"Yes," Gold nodded. "In its pure state, I'm afraid it would be. You've recovered?" he inquired briskly.

Aurora nodded back.

"The child is well?"

Aurora nodded again. "I've arranged childcare for today, though I think I'd rather keep him with me in future." She sighed. "I wish I'd known that wet-nursing wasn't common here before I brought him to the daycare; I'm not certain I trust these," she frowned, "infant formulas."

Gold smiled again. "It's not something I've had occasion to research," he admitted. He gestured to Belle, who was over by the coffee machine. "If you'd like to read up on the topic, I'm certain Belle can point you toward the proper materials."

Aurora took a breath. "I wanted to thank you again for helping me," she said.

Gold blinked. "You're quite welcome," he managed. "Although you're aware I didn't have a choice."

"Actually," Aurora said, "I think we both know that's not entirely true."

"Well," Gold murmured, conceding her point, "it wasn't as though I wanted to spend several hours listening to you screaming."

"Whatever your reasons," the princess smiled, "I'm grateful."

As she and her husband headed off in Belle's direction, Emma turned to him with a frown. "What was that about?" she asked. After hearing his explanation, she shook her head. " _You_ delivered her baby," she repeated. "Okay. That's it."

"I beg your pardon?"

Emma grinned. "You've just lost the right to call yourself a coward. And if you don't believe me, ask any guy here who isn't a medical doctor how they'd react if they had to do what you did."

Before Gold could respond, Archie announced then that they'd resume in two minutes, and Emma excused herself to grab a hot cocoa.

* * *

Regina was confused. She firmly believed that Evil was made, not born. She had herself as a living example. (And, after having read Henry's book, she knew that the same could be said of Rumple, her mother, and, almost certainly, Zelena.) When, for Henry's sake, she'd decided to mend her ways and come back to the side of Good, it had been a long haul and there had been more than one setback along the way. Over time, she'd come up with a technique that had generally proven effective: whenever she was faced with a situation that required a moral choice, she took her first instinct and then, did the precise opposite.

A week ago, in the warehouse, every instinct she had had been screaming to her that her sister would be a permanent threat—one that needed to be eliminated forthwith. She'd checked herself and spared Zelena's life. She'd even stopped Rumple from taking his vengeance. It had been the right thing to do. She was convinced of it. Just as she was convinced that everyone deserved a second chance. And, Regina was forced to admit, if Zelena's case was anything like her own, she might need several more. So be it. In the end, she was sure that Zelena would come around.

The others at the table—nearly all of them heroes—did not appear to be in agreement.

"Look, sister," Grumpy spoke up, "I won't deny that you may have changed since the old days, but it took you years, a Dark Curse, and a whole lot of other stuff after it, before you did. Our people paid for those chances in pain, in tears, and in blood. So… what guarantees have we got that giving the witch another chance won't deliver more of the same?"

Regina sighed. "First," she pointed out, "Zelena no longer has her magic."

"Regina," Belle said apologetically, "during the curse, neither did you. It didn't keep you from holding me in a solitary cell for twenty-eight years."

"Or framing my mother for murder," Emma chimed in.

"Murdering Greg Mendel's father," came from Hook.

"Magic might make it easier to hide her tracks," Bashful said diffidently as he stared at the table, "but not having it won't necessarily stop her from hurting us, if she wants to."

Regina fought back her instinct to incinerate the conference table with a fireball. They weren't bringing up her past to insult or hurt her. They were putting forth a rebuttal to her argument. And lashing out wasn't about to help her case. "I can handle Zelena," she said tightly. "I've done it before."

"How?" Grumpy demanded. "Take her heart?" She hesitated a fraction of a second too long and Grumpy laughed bitterly. "Sister, you can't force someone to take a second chance."

"Maybe," Aurora spoke up. "But removing her heart would prevent her from taking any further hostile actions." There were murmurs of agreement.

Regina took a quick look around the table and saw many heads nodding in agreement. To her surprise, Rumple's wasn't one of them. "Well," she said, "before this hearing was called, my initial plan was to give Zelena a second chance and—should she turn it down—to take her heart and crush it. I'm not opposed to a few modifications." She met Rumple's eyes and he flinched and looked away. Interesting. "Rumple?" she asked, a bit louder than before. "Your thoughts?"

He gave her a hard look, but he rose to his feet. "It's a bad idea," he said tersely.

Regina's eyebrows shot up. She would have expected him to jump on the notion. "Care to elaborate?"

He pressed his lips together for a moment. Then, softly, he replied, "I suppose, if I must…" He gave Regina a direct stare. "Well, you've gone soft, Your Majesty. Or, Madame Mayor, if you prefer. You're so quick to dole out second chances these days, trying so hard to distance yourself from the person you used to be…" He smiled then, but it wasn't a nice smile. "The person you used to be made a habit out of taking hearts, to control or crush at your pleasure. I suspect that, if push were to come to shove, rather than risk backsliding, well, you might come up with all manner of excuses for not doing what you're offering to do here today. After all, it does boil down to enslaving—or murdering—your own sister."

Regina frowned. "You're not suggesting that I entrust her heart to you, I hope."

Rumple chuckled. "I don't think either of us are fool enough to believe the rest of the council would vote in favor of that proposition. Nor that their majesties would be willing to accept such a resolution if they did. No. But that does bring us to the… ah… _heart_ of the problem? Taking your sister's heart means that someone will need to guard it. This would have to be a person above the temptation to… say… compel Zelena to commit some dark act as a pretext for killing her. Or to enslave her in some other fashion. It would also need to be a person resolute enough to take the necessary action, should Zelena step out of line, instead of hesitating and second-guessing, while she brings this town down about our ears. So." He looked about the room. "Anybody here feel up to the task?" His gaze fell on Archie. "Doctor Hopper, perhaps?"

Archie shook his head. "I-I couldn't."

"How about our dear sheriff?"

Emma's mouth hung open. "No way."

"And your parents?"

Regina remembered something she'd overheard David say the day that he and Snow had retrieved Rumple's dagger from the clock tower and shook her head, frowning. "The next time something threatens this town," she admitted, "the temptation to use Zelena to deal with it might prove too great for them."

"I thought she has no more magic," Philip said.

"Take off the cuff, give her back her pendant, and that changes," Emma replied. "And if she's under someone's control, and the town is being threatened, that could be considered a risk worth taking."

"Until the moment when it's not," Belle said.

"Quite," Hook agreed. "Plus, if she manages to reclaim her heart, well, we saw what the Dark One nearly did as soon as he was free from her control. I've little doubt she'd attempt similar vengeance."

Regina was almost certain that Rumple's quick nod was involuntary. She doubted he'd openly side with the pirate, regardless of circumstance. She sighed. "It looks as though we'll need to come up with a different solution."

* * *

It was dark by the time the hearing adjourned for the day and they were still no closer to a consensus. Banishment from Storybrooke seemed to be a favorite solution, right behind keeping Zelena locked up indefinitely—whether in the hospital's secure ward, or in the cage where she'd confined Rumple. That suggestion had come from Philip. Perhaps Regina shouldn't have been surprised at that. She'd been in the hospital checking up on Snow and Emma, when he and Hook had rushed in, Hook wheeling Aurora down the hall, Philip trying to keep pace and attend to both his wife and the baby in her arms. And when they'd been taken to a room not far from Snow's, Regina had heard the prince bellowing about how he'd found his wife confined in a cage 'not fit for livestock on their way to the slaughterhouse'.

At Little John's suggestion, she and Rumple had transported everyone to the farmhouse to see the cage. She'd barely noticed when Rumple had all but fled the room, Belle on his heels. The cage had looked a lot smaller in the empty room than it had taking up most of the floor in the storm cellar. And it had _reeked_. A spinning wheel, two stools, a pile of straw for a bed, more straw by the wheel… There'd been a bucket, too, which seemed to be the main source of the smell. Regina considered what it might have been like to occupy that space for weeks on end and hoped that her face displayed none of her dismay. She'd held people captive before—sometimes for the flimsiest of reasons, but not like this. She'd shut them away, yes. But the cells had been designed simply to prevent escape. They might not have been comfortable, but they'd never been this… confining. Or austere. _And if I took a prisoner's heart, I almost always allowed them their freedom to come and go as they chose, so long as they were clear on who held their strings. Once I controlled them, I didn't have to keep them locked up on top of it._

She could understand Philip's reasoning, much as she could understand Rumple's. In another life, it was the kind of thing she might have found fitting for an enemy she'd gotten the better of. But… wasn't Good supposed to be better than this?

They'd all been somewhat subdued when they'd returned to the town hall and the council had broken up shortly afterwards. Regina had left quickly, not feeling a need to talk to anyone on the way out. Her thoughts were in turmoil, as she went to meet Henry at Granny's.

* * *

Henry's welcoming smile died on his lips when he got a good look at her face. "It didn't go well, huh?" he asked.

Regina sat down across from him in the booth and studied the specials on the chalkboard over the counter. "I guess," she admitted, "that would depend on how you look at it. Do you know what you want to order?"

Henry looked embarrassed. "I… kind of had some cake while I was waiting for you. And a chocolate milk. And a sundae."

Regina tried to look cross. "I don't mind that you started eating without me. I do mind that you started with dessert."

"Sorry."

Regina sighed. "Just don't make a habit of it." She turned to the waitress, who had walked up to take her order. "I suppose I'll have the blue plate special," she said.

The young woman smiled and wrote it down. "It'll just be a few minutes."

Regina nodded.

"Mom?" Henry interjected. "I guess I could have a hotdog. I know you hate eating alone."

Regina smiled and nodded again to the waitress. After the young woman was out of earshot, her smile fell away.

"That bad?"

For a moment, Regina wished that she could just slouch in her chair and put her elbows on the table and all the other behaviors that Cora had trained out of her ages ago. It would be nice to look as deflated as she felt. Instead, she tried to smile at her son. "That bad," she admitted. "I suppose I understand it, but I was hoping for…" Her voice trailed off, as she realized that Henry probably wouldn't see things her way either.

"Mom?"

"Henry," Regina said slowly, "I know how you feel about Zelena and I really can't blame you. At the same time, she _is_ my sister. And I can't help thinking that if I was able to change, she can too."

Henry nodded. "I get that," he said. "I do. But Mom… you wanted to change. Does Zelena?"

"I don't know," Regina admitted. "Before all of this happened, I gave her an ultimatum at the sheriff's station: take the second chance I was offering and turn over a new leaf, or I'd crush her heart."

Henry's mouth dropped open for a moment. "Did you mean that?" he asked.

"I know," she sighed. "It sounds like I reverted for a moment. I think I meant what I was saying, but I don't know if I could actually go through with it. I was just… trying to give her an incentive."

"Yeah," Henry said, "but then, she wouldn't be changing because she wanted to, but because you were forcing her. I think…" his expression grew troubled, "I think any time you try to force someone to do what you want, they might do it, but they'll also keep looking for a chance to get away and get back at you." He picked up his nearly-empty chocolate milk and slurped up the last bit, pretending not to see his mother wince at the sound. "Kind of like when you grabbed me out of the town hall meeting when the curse broke and, as soon as I got home, I tried climbing out the window."

Regina nodded wearily. "I did something similar, long ago, hoping to escape marrying King Leopold. Had I succeeded at that… Well, I'm actually glad I didn't, because on that path, it's unlikely that Snow and David would have met, which would mean that Emma—and you—would never have been born. But on that path, I never would have begun studying the dark arts, either. There would have been no 'Evil Queen,' no Dark Curse… All of which is beside the point," she admitted. "You're right. Cora hemmed me in until I had to break out in the worst way possible."

Henry nodded. Then he got up from the table, came around to Regina's side of the booth, and sat down next to her. "You know something?" he said. "I think that's when you started to try to change. When you realized that what you were doing wasn't just hurting people you hated, but people you cared about."

"Someone I loved," Regina corrected, clasping Henry's hand in her own. "The problem is, Zelena doesn't seem to love—or even care about—anyone other than herself."

Henry nodded.

Regina frowned. "Wait. It wasn't only that I realized I was hurting you," she said slowly. "It was that I could empathize with you, because I'd lived through the same sort of thing that I was trying to do to you at that time. I wonder…"

"Mom?"

Regina smiled slowly. "I wonder if there's a way in which Zelena can learn the same lesson."

* * *

Emma had to admit that a magical meal tasted every bit as satisfying as one cooked in the conventional manner. "Please," she implored, as she reached for another cookie, "tell me that magical calories burn off faster than the other kind."

Gold raised an eyebrow. "All magic comes with a price, dearie. If you try to avoid the obvious one, you might find yourself paying a higher one."

Belle laughed. Emma rolled her eyes. "It was worth a try." She pushed away her plate. "Okay. So, tomorrow, I was thinking that we should—" She broke off when she heard a sharp knock on the door. "You expecting anyone? Wait. What time is it?"

Belle looked at her watch. "It's a bit after eight," she said.

Emma slapped her hand to her forehead. "I was supposed to pick up Henry at Granny's a half an hour ago!" she exclaimed. "It's probably him now."

Gold was already walking toward the door. When he opened it, Emma saw him tense. She didn't really blame him; it wasn't just Henry standing on the doorstep, but… "Good evening, Madame Mayor," Gold greeted her coldly. Then, in a friendlier tone, "Hello, Henry."

Regina took a deep breath. "May we come in for a moment?"

"Henry!" Emma called. "I'm so sorry. I was just going to leave to come—"

"Mom!" Henry cut her off, as Gold moved aside to allow him entry. "It's okay. Really."

Gold fixed Regina with a penetrating stare. "What is it you want?"

Regina coaxed a bright smile onto her face. "I want to discuss a deal."


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Just a refresher: Sean Herman is the alter ego of Cinderella's Prince Thomas. Michael Tillman is the father of Nicholas and Ava Zimmer.

 **Chapter Twenty-Seven**

"A deal," Rumple repeated incredulously. "With regard to the ongoing proceedings? Why would you think I'd have any interest in working with you on _that_?"

Regina's normal poise seemed to falter for a moment. "Because of something that became clear to me after talking with Henry at dinner." The wind blew a blast of cold air through the doorway just then and Regina pulled her coat more tightly about her. "And because I think that, while our intentions for Zelena might be at variance, we may not be as far apart from one another as either of us thought. I believe there could be a way that we can both get what we want." She winced as another blast of cold air blew past. "Can we discuss it in warmer surroundings?"

Rumple made a non-committal grunt and moved aside to let her in. "Belle was just about to pour tea," he said. He glanced over his shoulder and Emma caught a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I believe she's fully recovered from her earlier bout of clumsiness, though I could be mistaken."

Belle sighed. "I can let you pour your own, if you like," she told Regina with a faint smile.

"Actually," Regina said, "I think I've had enough caffeine already today."

Rumple gave a slight shrug. "As you wish. I'm afraid I'm not much accustomed to entertaining," he added. "I suppose that since you're here, you may as well sit down. Both of you," he added, waving them over to the sofa. Now," he said, when Regina and Henry were seated, "just to satisfy my curiosity, what sort of plea bargain are you proposing?"

Regina took a breath. "As much as I want to give my sister a chance to turn over a new leaf, I can't deny the cogent arguments against it. At least, as matters currently stand."

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"All right. When I decided to try to become a better person," she wrapped an arm around Henry's back, "it was because I didn't want to lose Henry. I imagine that in your case, Belle and…" she lowered her eyes for a moment, "…Neal provided similar incentive. Zelena doesn't have anyone she cares about enough to give her an incentive to change."

Rumple shrugged again. "Hardly news to me, your majesty," he remarked.

"I realize that. I'm wondering, though. Is there a way to solve that problem?"

"You mean," Rumple tilted his head and looked at her incredulously, "find someone to befriend her and then reject her unless she mends her ways? You can't be serious."

"Give me a little credit," Regina snapped. "That's not what I have in mind." Her voice grew hesitant as she tried to frame her thoughts. "It's not just that there's nobody in her life that she cares about. I don't think she understands what it means to care. My mother used to say that love was weakness. We know that she ripped out her own heart to avoid it. I think Zelena may have kept her heart, but she walled it off early to keep from being vulnerable."

"That makes sense to me," Emma agreed. "So…"

Regina took a deep breath. "Is there any way to… lend her our memories?" Seeing Rumple's start of surprise, she continued. "Either she doesn't realize the kind of harm she's inflicted, or… she just doesn't care. Or both. I mean," she went on, her voice rising as she warmed to her subject, "she's apparently totally lacking in any kind of empathy. She watched my mother crush my true love's heart and all she saw was that Cora had removed an obstacle on my path to the throne." She took another breath. "And I do recognize that this isn't just about me. I think," she said slowly, "that Zelena has been living with envy for so long that all she sees is that other people have what she wants. A long time ago, you taught me that if I wanted to hurt someone, I had to take away what they loved. I think," she leaned forward slightly and half-extended her hand to Rumple, "since Zelena doesn't know much about love, she does to others what would hurt _her_ most: take away what's most important to them." She paused to let that penetrate and didn't quite manage to look away before she saw the quick flicker of pain in Rumple's eyes. "The thing is," she continued, "if Zelena's whole _raison d'être_ is taking from others what she feels should rightfully be hers, then it's likely she's never had much of her own that she valued. She accused me once of not appreciating what I had. While there was some truth to that, I think she may have been projecting. Factor in the lessons she learned by watching my mother and… I don't think she really understands what it means to lose a loved one. Or to have one, for that matter."

"And why should that matter to me?" Rumple asked, but with less of an edge than he might have before.

Regina took another breath. "Because I think that if we can both focus on that, then our goals start to align. You want her to pay for what she did to you and for killing your son. The problem is, at this point? No matter what you do to her, she won't… get it. She might know facts: how you lost him, how you created the curse to find him, what you went through to get him back… but," she glanced sharply at Emma, "she doesn't have the moments." Emma's eyes widened and a small smile dawned on her face. Regina smiled back. "Henry told me what you said at the town line, when he was trying to convince you that Pan had switched bodies with him. It made a lot of sense."

She turned back to Rumple. "I think that if Zelena could experience those moments, truly understand what it is she took from you, see through my eyes what it was to watch my mother crush Daniel's heart in front of me," she looked at Belle, "know the horror of being turned into a weapon and used against the person you love most… Hell, let her get a feel for how much Doc cares about that stupid car, while we're at it… Then maybe, just maybe, once she's been on the receiving end of that kind of pain, she'll think twice about inflicting it on others. At that point," she continued, "she might be ready to try to leave her past actions in her past, take that second chance I offered and try to turn over a new leaf." She sighed. "Meanwhile, you still get what you want: unless I miss my guess, experiencing our memories _will_ make her suffer."

"Oh, it will," Rumple nodded grimly. "You can rest assured of _that_."

"Wait," Emma said. "If we give her our memories, does that mean that we'll lose them?"

Rumple shook his head. "No. You'll still have them, but they won't be as strong. In effect, you will have memories of your memories. So an experience that might have given you nightmares and had you waking up in a cold sweat would, for the duration of the transfer, be an unpleasant recollection, but far less… vivid."

Regina nodded. "It's not unlike what happens to one's ability to feel emotion without a heart. You do, but it's… muffled, in a way."

"Correct," Gold said. He frowned. "I gather you don't intend such a transfer to be permanent."

Regina shook her head. "She started moving against us during the year in the Enchanted Forest. We know she got to Phillip and Aurora, even before our arrival. Under the circumstances, I think letting the experience last a year would be appropriate."

Rumple considered. Slowly, the furrows in his brow eased. "Well," he said slowly, "I think we might have a deal after all. However, you should be aware of the ramifications. First, you do realize that what you propose means that we will be sharing some of our most personal and painful memories. That's not something comfortably done."

"I know," Regina said. "I've was wrestling with that on the drive over here."

"Not a very long drive," Rumple pointed out.

"Well, in your case and mine, we know that she was watching us for years before she made her move. This is less about baring our souls to her than it is about fleshing out the details of what she already knows. As for the others she's hurt… I can… try to make those memories more… anonymous." She turned toward Emma.

"Emma," she said, "when I gave you new memories before you crossed over the town line, they weren't fantasies I concocted out of thin air. Most of them were real enough. They'd just happened to me, and not to you. I made them vague enough so that your own mind would fill in some of the blanks; obviously, you and I tend to react differently to the same situations. And Henry," she smiled at her son, "you kept a lot of your memories from Storybrooke. You just remembered them as happening in other places." She nodded to Emma. "I had to mirror some of those for you, so the two of you would have shared common experiences." She smiled wryly. "And I _might_ have worked in some events from my favorite 1980s situation comedies," she admitted a bit wistfully. "Something told me the two of you would probably have managed a few more heartwarming moments than Henry and I did. My point, Rumple," she continued, serious once more, "is that our memories will be a bit too specific for Zelena not to recognize their source. But if others wish to contribute? I can file off some of the identifying characteristics, jumble things a bit, give the… donors a bit more privacy." She took another breath and let it out. "And… if they'd rather not, you and I together ought to be more than enough."

"I'm in," Belle said shortly.

"Me too," Emma said.

Regina and Rumple looked at her. "You?" Regina asked.

"Yeah," Emma said. "Leaving aside that I came pretty close to marrying a guy who turned out to be one of her minions—and believe me, once I learned the truth, I had some pretty intense feelings about being played," she hesitated, "I loved Neal, too. And," she glanced at Rumple, "I can probably add another dimension to some of the memories you're likely to share with her."

Rumple nodded slowly. "You make a fair point. Several, in fact. Very well. A moment ago, you asked whether you would lose the memories you chose to share for the duration of the transfer. Understand that when that year is up, Zelena will still have… memories of your—our—memories. In time, they'll probably fade, but I would recommend thinking carefully about how much you wish to divulge to her."

"Got it," Belle said. Emma and Regina nodded.

"One more thing," Rumple said. "This particular technique can be effected both by practitioners of Light and of Dark magic. It will be a delicate procedure, your majesty. Should something go awry with either of us performing the transfer, I've no illusions about the suspicions likely to be raised. It would probably be best if it were carried out by someone with no personal stake, someone whose reputation is beyond reproach." He mumbled something too quickly for Emma to catch.

Belle, however, raised both eyebrows. "Reul Ghorm?" she repeated. "You want Blue to do it?"

Rumple gave her a wry smile. "I don't _want_ her to do it, but apart from the reason I just mentioned, it's preferable that any sentence be carried out by a neutral party." He gestured toward Regina and Emma. "I don't believe any of us qualify."

Regina acknowledged his statement with a slight nod. "So," she took a deep breath, "assuming Blue agrees, do we have a deal?"

Rumple nodded slowly. " _We_ do," he confirmed. "Bear in mind, though, that we still need to persuade the rest of the council." He sighed. "While the ethics of your proposal don't concern me, I think we can expect others to raise a number of objections along those lines."

Regina took another breath. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"

He smiled. "Well, since you asked…"

* * *

While he'd never been invited to one of Snow and Charming's council meetings before this, he'd observed several from a distance. Rumple knew that there was nothing wrong in bringing the portable loom with him the next day. After all, if Widow Lucas could knit through the sentencing deliberations for the Evil Queen, there shouldn't be a problem with his own activity. The truth was, while he intended to give the meeting his undivided attention, he needed something to keep him occupied when the council wasn't in session.

He'd been up half the night thinking about Bae, trying to decide which memories to pass on to Zelena—assuming that this proposal would be accepted—and which to keep to himself. He couldn't just pass along Bae's anger and mistrust. Zelena wouldn't be able to grasp the enormity of what she'd taken from him if he didn't give her the good memories, too. And she didn't deserve them. She didn't deserve a second chance either, though he had to admit that Storybrooke tended to be somewhat liberal with those. If he didn't allow her to experience his happy memories, she'd have no way to comprehend how devastating the unhappy ones were. But disclosing so much—to _her_ —was a price he was _almost_ unwilling to pay.

Bottom line: he was tense, he was nervous, and if weaving would help him to maintain a façade of calm, then he was bringing the loom with him and to hell with what anybody else thought about it.

He got to the hall early, not surprised to be the first one there. He'd just set the loom on the table, when the doors opened again to admit Phillip and Aurora. Judging by the bulging sling Aurora wore wrapped about her waist and passed diagonally across her chest, there was one more person in the room as well. "Oh," Phillip said, "I'm sorry. We'd hoped to get settled before anyone else arrived." He set an infant seat—one which could be easily tilted to create a cradle—down on the table. A few seconds later, it was joined by a diaper bag, several small soft toys, and a paperback book that showed a few cracks in the spine.

"We're new at this," Aurora admitted, smiling. "And there are so many items here that weren't available back in our land. It's more than a little overwhelming."

Rumple shook his head. "That's parenthood, dearie," he drawled. "It doesn't matter how much or how little you have. It doesn't matter how prepared you think you are. It still takes you by surprise."

"You're right, of course," Phillip said. "We're just… surprised by how much we've been taken by surprise, I suppose."

Rumple shrugged. "I expect you'll learn," he said, going back to his weaving. He was just settling into a comfortable rhythm when he heard two chairs scrape backwards and looked up to see them both walking toward him, Aurora cradling the baby in her arms.

"Actually," Aurora said, "I… we were wondering…" Her voice trailed off. Rumple waited. He was just about to go back to his work, when Phillip spoke.

"My wife told me how you helped her. There's no real way to repay you in kind for that. But…" He took a deep breath. "Our son has no godparent. Aurora and I were wondering whether you would do us the honor of fulfilling that role."

Rumple pushed aside the loom and looked at them incredulously. "You must be joking."

"I assure you, we aren't," Aurora said.

"Do you have any idea who—" He stopped. They did know who he was. And they were still offering… "There are at least a dozen heroes in this town more qualified for that role than I," he snapped. "Surely you could ask one of them."

"We could," Phillip agreed. "And if you refuse us, then we probably will. But you helped to bring our young Phillip into the world and, to hear Aurora tell it, you did everything you could to have things go smoothly in… trying circumstances." Rumple snorted at the magnitude of _that_ understatement. "To my mind," Phillip continued, "to _our_ minds, that more than qualifies you for the role."

"And you would have your son tied to the Dark One?"

Aurora shrugged. "Given the circumstances of his birth, the tie already exists." She raised an eyebrow. "Or are you concerned that your own reputation will suffer? Associating with… well, the likes of us?"

"What, heroes, you mean?" Gold asked mildly.

"I suppose that's what they're calling us," Aurora admitted, "though I'm not sure why. I betrayed a trust, was transformed into a monkey, wreaked a certain amount of havoc, and then, with your help, delivered a healthy child. And before that, I… heroically fell under a sleeping curse, believed I saw my true love die and nearly got myself killed by blaming the wrong people for it. Oh, and I was also coerced into leading my companions into a trap. I don't see where heroism comes into the picture."

"Except for the part about giving birth," Phillip said with a half-smile, "my recent history matches my wife's. Before that," he added, "I'm not sure there's anything noble about being transformed into a yaoguai. We aren't heroes. We're just… muddling through as best we can."

Gold sniffed. "You'll muddle a bit better if you keep your distance," he told them. "You can make a fresh start here. The last thing you need is an association with me."

Aurora frowned. "Why not let us make that decision?" she asked. "And," she continued brightly, "we're still waiting to hear yours."

Gold blinked. "I gave it," he said.

"No," Aurora returned. "You gave us reasons why you believe we're wrong in making the offer. You haven't actually told us your decision." She sighed. "I really wasn't going to do this. I know it smacks of emotional manipulation and, if everyone is intent on calling us heroes, I suppose I ought to try to live up to that label and be better than this. However…" She held the baby carefully out to him.

Rumple gaped at her. "You can't be serious."

"It's not as though you never held him before."

He shook his head. "I-I know, but…" His hands seemed to have taken on minds of their own and were already reaching for the child. "Has he put on weight?" he asked, looking down at a pair of dark blue eyes. Almost unconsciously, he rocked the baby gently and a small smile played on his lips. The baby yawned.

"Actually," Phillip said, "he's only just gained back what he'd lost. Apparently it's normal for newborns to lose a little weight in the first week. Or so the doctor tells us."

"No, no he's right," Rumple reassured him. "I've heard that said before." He looked down again and saw that the baby seemed to be falling asleep. He sighed. "I still think that this is a mistake."

Aurora smiled. "We shall see. Then you will…?"

He took a deep breath. "I truly hope you understand what you're in for," he capitulated.

The others were starting to arrive and he handed the baby back with a slight smile. As Phillip and Aurora walked away, it occurred to him that he'd need to start on a second blanket now, once the one for Neal was completed.

* * *

As Regina outlined the solution they'd hammered out last night, Rumple took careful stock of the reactions of those hearing it for the first time. Archie seemed to have some reservations—hardly surprising, considering that they intended to tamper with the witch's memories, which meant going into her mind. His territory. The dwarfs were harder to read. Phillip and Aurora appeared to be more enthusiastic, while Robin and Little John looked uncomfortable. And Hook looked… conflicted.

Finally, Regina opened the floor to questions. Archie almost leaped out of his chair. "It's an interesting solution," he said at a rush. "One that seems to temper clemency with vengeance. But suppose it doesn't go as smoothly as you think. What if the weight of all of those extra memories damages her psychologically?"

"Judging by her previous deeds," Phillip muttered loudly enough to be overheard, "I'd say the damage was done long ago."

"All the more reason why we shouldn't add to it," Archie shot back. "Torturing her brings us down to her level."

"Actually," Rumple interjected, "we were hoping that you'd use your particular expertise to help us prevent things from getting to that point. Because you're quite right: flooding her mind with a tidal wave of foreign memories would be—well, for her, at any rate—disastrous. However, a steady trickle is rather a different matter. That would cause her distress, yes, but with a good deal less intensity. Regina spoke with Ruel last night and she is prepared to oversee that aspect. Once sentence has been carried out, the witch might indeed need your assistance to navigate those waters, but—speaking as someone who housed a second mind in my own head for most of a year…" He shook his head. "I won't insult any of you by pretending I'd balk at torturing her, if I thought I could do so with impunity. But if my own experience is anything to go by, the loss of reason can be a shield between an individual and a reality too painful to endure. It numbs the mind. You wish to spare her from torture. I wish to prevent her from escaping the full realization of the harm she's caused. I freely grant that your motive is nobler than mine, but even so, neither of us want her to be more damaged than she already is."

"We're prepared to allow you to monitor her condition as frequently as you like," Regina added. "If, at any time, you believe that things are getting out of hand…" She took a deep breath. "Well, we can cut things short, but I have to hope it won't come to that. Because if it does, our only other option is indefinite incarceration. And the only place where we can hold her and be certain that she won't escape," uncharacteristically, her voice faltered, "would be Pandora's Box." She looked at the faces around the table. "She's my sister. I believe that she can be reached and I don't want to give up on her. But as secure as the lower level of the hospital is, it's not escape-proof. Pandora's Box is. I think we can agree, though, that using it would be the practical definition of washing our hands of her and moving on. And, while I realize that many of you here have good reason for wanting to do precisely that, I have to believe that a person can change—if they have the desire. And the support. I don't think I'm alone in feeling this way. If this treatment helps Zelena understand and regret the damage she's done, it's a step. Probably the most important one. And as for those who want her punished, I think we can all agree that she won't find this sentence an easy one."

"Archie," Emma said, "a lot of this rests on you. Not just for keeping tabs on Zelena. I mean, if this does what we're expecting it to, then they're right: there's a good chance that she'll end up being one of your patients before all this is over. Are you okay with that? Will you have time on your schedule to take her on?"

Archie was still frowning, but something in his face seemed to relax a bit. "If she needs my help, you don't have to ask that, Emma. I'll make the time."

Robin had been silent for most of the proceedings. He spoke now. "I'm not entirely comfortable with this," he admitted. "But I'll admit it appears you've covered all the bases. If the sentence is to be carried out by the Reul Ghorm, I'm satisfied that things will be unlikely to go awry due to… zealousness."

There was a murmur of agreement.

"Are we ready to put this to a vote?" Archie asked. The others nodded. Archie reached down beside his chair, lifted his briefcase, and set it on the table. "I believe a silent ballot would be best. What we're proposing isn't something to be undertaken lightly, and anonymity will make it easier for everyone to vote their conscience. Now, although Snow and David have vetoed the death penalty, technically, since for what Zelena's done, execution would normally be an option, the rules for capital cases still apply. As such, this proposal requires at least a two-thirds majority to pass. In this case, ten votes. As moderator, I have no vote unless the council is tied, in which case I cast the deciding one."

He opened his briefcase and withdrew several square pieces of paper, a shoebox with a slot cut into the lid, and a number of black Sharpies. He passed the stack of papers to Phillip. "Take one and pass the others around." He gathered up the Sharpies and passed them to Happy with the same instructions. "All right," he said with unaccustomed authority. He pushed away his chair, mounted the steps to the stage, and walked over to a whiteboard that was half-concealed in the wings. He dragged it forward to the stage apron. "I would ask you please," Archie continued, "do not fill out your ballot until you hear the instructions. If you support the sentence that has been presented," he pulled a dry-erase marker out of his shirt's breast pocket, "mark your ballot with a check." He drew a checkmark on the whiteboard. "If you oppose it," he continued, "mark your ballot with an x." He wrote an x below the check. If you wish to abstain, please draw a straight line." He added one below the x. "It's important that all ballots be marked, so that we can confirm the total number of votes cast." He smiled and returned to his seat. "All right. Cast your votes and place your ballots in the shoebox when you're done. And then, I'll ask you all clear the hall for a few minutes, so that I can count them in private. Let's say a fifteen-minute recess?"

There was general agreement. It wouldn't take that long for Archie to tally the votes, but it would give them some time to unwind after a heated discussion.

* * *

It was cloudy outside and a few flurries of snow were drifting about them. They melted by the time they hit the ground. Emma saw Regina leaning against the side of the building and walked over to her. "How do you think it's going to go?" she asked.

Regina sighed. "I'm not sure. What we're proposing to do _is_ controversial and, no matter what kind of spin we try to put on it..." She shook her head. "I do think that this will give Zelena her best chance, but is it doing the right thing? It's… complicated."

"Yeah." Emma was silent for a moment. "So, was voting usually done by secret ballot in the Enchanted Forest?"

Regina regarded her quizzically. "I don't have the faintest idea. Council meetings weren't exactly my thing when I was in power. And the ones Snow held last year didn't call for any votes that couldn't be settled by a show of hands."

Emma nodded. "I was just wondering because Archie seemed so strict about making sure the ballots were filled out right. I mean, Gold drilled me on the protocols for this kind of meeting, but he never mentioned anything like that."

"I don't think it had much to do with protocol," Regina said, looking off pointedly in the distance, to where Little John was talking with Phillip. "One thing we _didn't_ have in our land was universal education. I'm not entirely certain that everyone at the table can read and write. It's possible," she continued. "But if not, I'd say Archie hit on a way to make sure that everyone present could cast their vote without having to admit that they didn't know what a checkmark looked like."

Emma blinked. "That… seriously didn't cross my mind," she admitted. "I mean, I thought the curse would have taken care of that."

"The first curse did," Regina nodded. "But only because literacy was part and parcel of the curse-memories—memories everyone retained, even after the curse ended. Storybrooke was meant to tailor itself to appear like any other small town in this corner of the land, which meant—among other things—universal schooling. But this second dark curse brought over a number of people who haven't been here before and… You understand that when I cast the first one, I had all the time in the world to shape it to my desires before I finally released it. That wasn't the case this time. This time, we were trying to enact it before Zelena caught wind of what we were up to. There wasn't as much… fine-tuning."

Emma nodded her comprehension. She was about to say something else when Regina looked at her watch and the others started trooping back to the hall. "Time to go in?" she asked.

Regina nodded. "Time to find out how convincing we were."

"Nervous?"

Regina drew in her breath sharply, as though preparing some blistering retort. Then she exhaled. "Very."

"Makes two of us," Emma smiled. "Let's go."

* * *

The vote was twelve in favor, with one opposed, and two abstaining. The council adjourned a few minutes later, with strict instructions not to discuss the sentence with anyone until it received royal approval. As everyone filed out, the mood was subdued. There were smiles on some faces, but they were smiles of relief, not triumph or jubilation.

"Well," Regina sighed, as she, Rumple, Belle, and Emma made their way to the parking spaces at the side of the building, "we did it."

"Assuming their charming majesties elect not to veto, you mean," Rumple cautioned.

Emma let out a breath. "So, what happens now?" she asked.

"Well," Rumple said, "I wouldn't show up at your parents before the sentence is publicly confirmed. Even at this late stage, there might be some to claim you used your powers of persuasion to get them to ratify our decision. But," he allowed, "assuming they do, the next step would be carrying out the sentence." He frowned. "That will fall to Ruel, of course."

Regina nodded. "When I spoke to her, she was hesitant. Not that she's opposed to the sentence; she saw the justice in it from the start. But she hasn't got a lot of experience with memory spells. I don't suppose you have a reference for her?"

Gold frowned. "Yes and no. There is one, but she may have a hard time deciphering it. The uncontested expert in that branch of magic was a man named Fistandantilus. He kept meticulous notes, but they were written in—"

"—Agraban, using a runic alphabet," Belle nodded. "Henry helped point me in the right direction."

" _Henry?_ " the other three exclaimed almost simultaneously.

Belle grinned and explained. "Anyway, the book's in my apartment. I'll get it for Blue."

"I'm going to head on over to the sheriff station and see what's doing," Emma said. Rumple started to say something and she sighed. "If David's not there, I mean. If he isn't then I'll get started on the paperwork I know he's letting pile up. And if he is," she rubbed her eyes, "I didn't get much sleep last night. Maybe I'll just go back to Granny's and crash."

"You're still meeting Henry after school today?" Regina asked.

Emma nodded. "I'll set my alarm before I lie down to make sure I'm there on time," she promised, opening the door to her Beetle.

Gold sighed. "Well, while we await word on whether our decision was approved, I suppose I'd best open the shop." He started down the street.

Before he'd gone more than a few yards, Regina called after him, "Rumple, wait."

He stopped and shot her a questioning glance. She walked briskly to catch up. "Rumple. Look. I know we have our differences. That being said…" Uncharacteristically, she seemed at a loss for words.

"That being said…?" Rumple prompted.

Regina flushed. "Look. I know that if you're looking for someone to confide in, I'd probably be the last person on your list—if I'm on it at all. However, if—" She stopped. "Maybe it's different for everyone. Maybe this is just my experience. But there are some days when it seems like every time I try to take a step out of the darkness… the darkness races to catch up with me. It was worse at the beginning, but it still happens from time to time. My point is, if you're moving on that same path… if you find you're having days like that and you think it might help to talk to someone who's been through a similar experience…"

Rumple snorted. "What?" he demanded sarcastically. "You'll be there for me?"

Regina smirked. "How about, I won't hang up on you or slam the door in your face and I'll try not to gloat too much?" She sighed. "All joking aside, like it or not, I probably _am_ in the best position to appreciate a lot of what you're going through. Sometimes, that can be a help. I know I could have used it," she admitted.

"Are you quite finished?" Rumple asked, sounding bored with the entire topic.

Regina shook her head sadly. "Just think about it, all right?"

Rumple shrugged and started back on his way. Regina had taken a step in the opposite direction, when he called after her, "Regina. I… do appreciate the offer. Thank you."

She spun back to face him, but the street was empty, except for a few rapidly-dissolving wisps of purple smoke. "You're welcome, Rumple," she murmured under her breath. Then she headed back to where she'd parked her Mercedes.

* * *

Snow and David looked at Blue in disbelief. "Memory tampering?" David said. "That sounds an awful lot like dark magic to me."

"To both of us," Snow interjected. "Wait. We've been fooled by glamor spells before. How can we know that you're… you?"

Blue smiled. "When you learned that the first Dark Curse was coming, I informed you of how it would be broken. I told you that the enchanted tree could only protect one person, but I am afraid that I misled you. The tree had sufficient magic for two. In exchange for fashioning the wardrobe, Geppetto demanded that his son take the second place. I agreed, only because without the wardrobe, there would have been no way to protect the savior from the curse."

Snow and David exchanged a look. "Nobody else knows about that besides Marco and Pinocchio," Snow said. "Not even Emma."

David frowned. "Are you positive? It's not that I don't trust our daughter," he added hastily. "But it's possible that she learned that detail from August. If so, it's possible she's shared it with… others."

Snow was shaking her head, but before she could reply, Blue interjected, "Also, although fairies usually do not take part in your mortal battles, because I owed Grumpy a debt, I made an exception and led the assault on Regina's castle when David was her prisoner."

Snow nodded to David. "This is Blue."

David exhaled. "Now that we've got that out of the way, explain to us how this isn't dark magic."

Blue smiled sadly. "Sometimes the most effective medicine has the bitterest taste. And sometimes, the line between light and dark isn't as sharply defined as you might think. For example, healing spells can be used by practitioners of both light and dark magic. And the same elixir that cures a deadly illness may well act as a poison if administered to one not suffering from the ailment for which it was created. This sentence is indeed a bitter medicine, but its prescription seems warranted. Administered properly, it may well accomplish what Regina hopes: curb her half-sister's envy and self-centeredness and bring her to a point where she can be rehabilitated. As harsh as it sounds, this may well give Zelena her best chance to change her outlook. And her behavior."

"And if this cure turns out to be worse than the disease, the spell can be removed?" Snow asked.

"It can be," Blue confirmed. "Though Zelena will still retain elements of the memories it will implant. The effects will fade over time."

David nodded. "That's good enough for me." He picked up the pen and reached for the paper with the council's decision. "So," he murmured as he pressed the nib down on the page to sign his name, "ratified."

After a moment, Snow sighed, nodded, and pulled the paper to her. "I just hope we're doing the right thing," she said worriedly.

* * *

Over the next three days, the convent received an untoward number of visitors—including several who had hitherto avoided it as much as possible. Blue received them in her office and, while the other fairies wondered what was transpiring, not even Tink was able to break past the warding spell set up to prevent eavesdropping. It was also noted that Regina and Doctor Hopper were the first to enter Blue's office every day, and the last to leave it each night. When Astrid got up the nerve to approach Blue and query why so many people had come to seek her out, the fairy replied only that it was a confidential matter and not one they needed to be privy to.

Once the stream of visitors stopped, Blue stepped out of her office, announced that she was not to be disturbed for any reason, and marched back in. That was the last anyone saw of her for another two days.

When all was in readiness, she sent word to Snow that it was time to reconvene the council.

* * *

Unlike the earlier council meetings, the sentencing was open to the public and a fair number of townspeople had turned out. The round conference table was gone, replaced by three rectangular ones, which were arranged in the shape of a horseshoe on the stage. Most of the council was already seated when Zelena was brought in; only Snow and David's chairs were empty. Protocol dictated that they be the last to take their places at the table.

As the witch was escorted past the spectators, there was loud murmuring, none of it sympathetic. Escorted between Sean Herman and Michael Tillman, Zelena held her head high and acted as though she was walking to her own coronation. She wore blue hospital scrubs—something Regina privately thought of as this realm's version of the plain gray dress she herself had worn when she'd been brought out to be executed in the Enchanted Forest. Without cosmetics, the witch was pale; her red hair was tied back severely, and her blue eyes were as opaque as thick ice. In addition to Pan's leather cuff, her hands were manacled before her. She surveyed the council and for the first time, her expressionless façade cracked and she smirked.

"All of this ceremony," she drawled. "Just for powerless little me?"

"Actually, Sis," Regina retorted, "it's as much for posterity as it is for you. This is the first time that a sentencing hearing has been held in this town, after all."

Any reply that Zelena might have made was cut short when the auditorium doors opened and Snow and David entered. As one, the council rose to its feet as the two walked to their chairs. Instead of sitting down at once, the two remained standing and, unlike the first time, they didn't ask the others to sit.

For a moment, all stood in silence. Then, Snow spoke. "You may all be seated. This hearing is now in session," she announced, and while her voice was soft, there was more than a hint of steel in it. She waited for the rest of the room to comply, though she and David remained on their feet. "Charges have been laid," Snow stated, "deliberations have been made, and a verdict decreed."

"Zelena," David intoned, "you have been charged and found guilty of various and sundry acts of terrorism, including," he consulted a paper before him, "abduction of minors, murder, attempted murder, forcible confinement, torture, extortion, magical coercion…"

As David read the list, Zelena smiled broadly. "Wow," she said, "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling rather accomplished right now."

Snow's gaze was as cold as her name. "Zelena," she said, "it is the decision of this council that for the duration of one full year, you live the torment that you have inflicted upon us, both in the Enchanted Forest and in this realm. At the end of one year, you will have the choice of remaining among us and abiding by the laws of this land, or banishment from this town to the world outside, where no magic exists."

During Snow's speech, Zelena's smile had faded. "Wait," she said. "What?"

David regarded her stoically. "The people that you've harmed over the course of the past year have volunteered to share their memories with you. For the next twelve months, you will live them. And it is our hope that you will learn from them. This is a chance for you, Zelena. Ignore it at your peril."

Zelena's eyes widened. "You can't be serious," she said. "I thought you were supposed to be heroes."

"We are," Snow replied tightly. "But we are also rulers. And we have to give this town its best chance. It's our hope that this sentence will do the same for you." She nodded to the only person seated at the table who hadn't been there for the earlier deliberations. "Blue? If you please?"

As the fairy rose from her chair and descended the stage, Sean and Michael each took tight hold of one of Zelena's arms. As Blue drew closer, the witch began to struggle in earnest, but she couldn't break her captors' grip. "No!" she exclaimed. "You can't do this. You can't."

Five feet away from Zelena, Blue turned and faced the council. "With your majesties' permission?"

David nodded. "Proceed."

As Blue began the spell, Zelena seemed to recover her composure and she lifted her chin and gazed coldly into the fairy's eyes, an arrogant smile on her face. The casting took less than a minute, but during that time, several eyes in the room focused, not on Zelena, but on Snow. It was well-known that she'd halted Regina's execution at the last possible second and there were some who wondered, as Zelena's eyes grew wider and her face paler, whether history would repeat itself. This time, however, there was no reprieve. Even when a strangled cry broke through Zelena's icy demeanor, Snow was silent. David and Emma noticed, however, that her hands were clamped tightly about the armrests of her chair and her lips were pressed firmly together.

Finally, Blue lowered her hands and took a step back. "It is done," she proclaimed.

As soon as her guards released her, Zelena buried her face in her manacled hands. She was shaking as they led her back to the van that would return her to the hospital.

David placed his hand over Snow's and whispered something to her too softly for anyone else to hear. She closed her eyes and nodded. David cleared his throat. "This hearing is now adjourned."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

"I believe that it's all here," Gold said, handing Emma a stack of bills. "You should count it, of course."

Emma shook her head and picked up the bills and handful of coins. She doubted she'd be able to fit the entire wad into her wallet, so she slipped it into her inner jacket pocket instead. "No, I trust you. By the way, do you always keep this kind of cash on hand?" That morning, she'd finally received an email notification that her Visa statement was available and she'd printed it off and brought it to the shop. (She'd deducted the amount of one of the two Wal-Mart entries over Gold's protests. The price of the loom and yarn were included in it and she had no intention of letting him know how much they'd cost. Nor would she accept reimbursement for something she'd bought him as a gift. She didn't care if it meant paying for everything else that had been in her cart out of her own pocket. It was worth it.)

Gold blinked. "Do you actually believe that anyone in their right mind would attempt to rob me?"

Emma tilted her head. "Ashley Boyd. Mo French. Hook."

"Ah, but of those three, the first two burglaries occurred prior to the breaking of the curse, and thus, at a time when they were unaware of the full extent of their idiocy. As for the pirate, he was after something worth far more to me than these pieces of paper." He frowned. "You really ought to count it, you know. Just to be on the safe side."

Emma shrugged and retrieved the bills. After a few moments, she smiled. "Yep," she confirmed. "You can stamp this one 'paid in full'."

Gold didn't smile back. "I think we both know that's not quite accurate," he said soberly. "The debt that I owe you will never— _can_ never—be repaid. After everything you did for me…"

"Hey." Emma reached across the counter and rested her hand on Gold's arm. "It was mutual, okay? There's no way I could have gone up against Zelena without your coaching. And I'm not sure how much longer I could have lasted against you in that fight if you hadn't figured out a way to put yourself out of commission. Not to mention how you got my baby brother out of town before."

Gold shook his head. "I had ulterior motives. I didn't want the witch to win after what she'd done."

"So?" Emma shrugged. "It doesn't change the fact that without your help, I—this town—would have been in much worse shape." She sighed. "Look. When I got you out of Storybrooke, I wasn't thinking about how… I don't know, useful… it could be to have the Dark One owing _me_ a couple of favors for a change; I was thinking that I couldn't just walk away and leave you for Zelena. I would have done the same thing for anyone."

"Yes," Gold nodded. "But you did it for me. At a time when I was at my lowest point and had nothing to offer you in exchange. And as for what you said and did after the battle..."

"Yeah," Emma said. "Because that's what friends do."

Gold blinked. "Friends?" he repeated softly.

Emma took a breath and let it out. "Friends," she nodded. "Maybe we weren't when I found you in the woods, but I'm pretty sure we are now. And friendship isn't some balance sheet where you keep track of who owes who a favor. It's… just… being there for each other and getting through stuff together and..." She sighed. "If it's not something you want, then fine. Let's just say I forgive the debt, okay?"

Gold regarded her for a moment. "Friends?" he repeated again.

Emma sighed. "Dumb idea, huh? Okay. Sorry. Thanks for the cash anyway." She turned around and headed for the door.

Gold closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the counter for support. "Emma," he said softly. Then louder, "Emma, wait. Please. I'm sorry. It isn't that…" He opened his eyes and saw that Emma was facing him once more, her expression unreadable. He exhaled in relief. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "It simply hadn't occurred to me that… that…"

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "It kind of snuck up on me, too."

"No," Gold said. "Well. It's true that I hadn't realized that we were— _are_ …" He hesitated. "…As you stated. But what I'd meant to say was that it hadn't occurred to me that it would be something you'd… want."

Emma rolled her eyes and let loose with an exaggerated—and exasperated—sigh. "Well, it is, okay?" she snapped.

Gold nodded slowly. "Oh… kay," he repeated, as though it was the first time he'd ever uttered the word and wanted to be sure he was saying it right.

Emma grinned and Gold gave her a tentative smile of his own.

* * *

Regina had officially stepped down from her position the day after the hearing. She'd been mayor for over thirty years and she needed a break. And anyway, it was Snow's kingdom now. It was time for her stepdaughter to take the reins.

It didn't take long for her to realize that retirement really didn't agree with her. While she told herself that she didn't want to get in Snow's way, she found herself stopping in every so often to find out if the new mayor wanted the benefit of her experience. Snow was gracious enough, but she seemed to be managing fine on her own.

Three weeks after the hearing, Regina had a different purpose for dropping by. As usual, she avoided looking at the bird picture. If she looked, she was going to have to fight not to say something snarky and, after all, Snow _was_ the mayor now and she could put up whatever decorations she wanted. Even birds. Even birds rendered by a third-rate artist with limited knowledge of ornithological anatomy. Even those. If she ever got her office back, though, Regina resolved, that painting would _have_ to go.

"Regina!" Snow greeted her in a whisper and gestured apologetically to the Pack 'n Play, where Neal lay sleeping.

Regina nodded her understanding and gestured to Snow to draw closer, away from the baby. "I've just been to the hospital," she explained.

Snow gave her stepmother a sad smile of understanding. "How is she doing?"

"I think," Regina sighed, "she'd do a lot better in a less-austere environment. I'd like to bring her home."

"Your home," Snow nodded. "As long as the doctors confirm she's not a danger to herself or anyone else, I've got no problem with that. Have you spoken to Henry about it?"

Regina shook her head. "I'm planning to do that this evening, when he comes over. I'll understand if he doesn't want to be under the same roof with her right now," she sighed. "Though I hope he'll come around sooner, rather than later."

"I'll hope for the best," Snow smiled.

"Yes," Regina smiled, "you're quite adept at that. Well," she sighed, "I guess I'd better inform Rumple, as well. And you can void that restraining order; I doubt he'll be tempted to visit the secure wing with my sister gone from it."

"Did you want us to revise it apply to your house?"

Regina shook her head. "I considered that, but first, even if Rumple can break through my protection spells, he won't be able to do it without letting me know it was him. Second, I… let him know that if he wanted to talk, I'd be there. I'm not going to tell him he can't show up at my door if he actually decides to take me up on it. Oh, stop that!" she waved her hand in irritation.

"Stop what?" Snow asked.

Regina groaned. "You _know_ what. That starry-eyed smile that tells me you're already dreaming about us all joining hands and going… caroling… or something equally insipid. I," she continued pleasantly, "simply happen to be a bit further down the road Rumple's started on and I know where some of the rougher patches are. That's all." In an undertone, she added, "I'm sure we'll be back to trying to one-up each other any day now—if he's not already scheming. No, don't bother revising the order. I'll make certain Rumple's aware, so that there'll be no surprises if he stops by unannounced—which he normally wouldn't do anyway—and that'll be the end of it."

The phone rang just then and the baby woke up and started crying. Snow sighed and ran back to her desk.

"You don't have an administrative assistant, yet?" Regina asked.

"I'm working on it!" Snow exclaimed. She scooped Neal up and rested him against her shoulder as she grabbed for the phone. "Good morning, Mayor's off—" she groaned. "They hung up. What happened to—?"

Regina let out a deep breath. "I don't think I've seen her since we got back to this realm. Either she stayed behind somehow or... I know that at least three flying monkeys were killed by townspeople, before we realized what was happening."

Snow shuddered. "I really hope it's the former," she murmured, as she rocked from one foot to the other, trying to calm the baby. "He just finished eating about fifteen minutes before you got here," she said apologetically. "Could you excuse me for one moment? He probably needs a new diaper."

"No problem," Regina smiled. "I'll be fine here in my old office. With your _birds_ ," she added ominously, as Snow hurried off.

* * *

When Snow returned with a now-placid baby, Regina was holding up the blanket she'd found the Pack 'n Play admiringly. "I didn't know there was anybody in town making custom baby blankets," she said, indicating the heraldic crest that occupied the center of the fabric—the same design that had been on the wax seals of the envelopes that Grumpy had delivered to advise about the hearing.

Snow smiled. "Rumpelstiltskin outdid himself."

"Rumple made that?" Regina exclaimed in surprise. Then she smiled knowingly. "Hence the use of golden thread for the design."

"I suppose so," Snow nodded. "When David collected his things from the mine, one of the items he found there was a portable loom that Emma'd bought him. He told her that, a long time ago, before he became the Dark One, he used to weave, as well as spin."

"Ah," Regina nodded sagely. "So, he's taking it up again?"

"I don't know," Snow admitted. "I ran into Aurora at the convenience store and she mentioned he's making one for her Phillip. Little Phillip," she corrected herself. "Phillip Junior. But that could be because…"

Regina nodded. "Yes, I heard." She shook her head, smiling. "I don't know what to think about that."

"Well, he did help her deliver the baby."

"I know, but…"

"Also, think about it from a different perspective," Snow was serious now. "Zelena whisked her baby away the minute he was born, just like she did Neal. If Aurora is anything like me, she's probably worrying herself sick every time her baby is out of sight, running to check on him, calling whoever's looking after him… Well, I have to admit that once word gets around that Phillip Junior is under Rumpelstiltskin's protection…"

Regina nodded slowly. "It does provide an added measure of safety. Not to mention that they're getting his help without being held to some unknown repayment at some point down the road."

"And," Snow said apologetically, "it sort of… upstages something I'd wanted to do after the hearing when things settled down a bit. David and I were meaning to ask you to be _Neal's_ godmother, but when I heard about this, I guess I got worried that you'd think we were just trying to compete with Phillip and Aurora, and… I'm sorry. We should have asked you sooner. Will you?"

Regina's serene poise seemed to flicker and fade away. She broke into a warm smile. "Of course I will," she exclaimed. And then, as if embarrassed by her lapse, she quickly resumed her usual calm. "After all, 'godmother' sounds so much better than _grand_ mother."

* * *

 _Two weeks later…_

"You are helping her, you know," Archie said, startling Regina. The former mayor had stopped into Granny's after walking Henry to school. While her son still refused to set foot in her house so long as Zelena was in residence, they'd worked out a compromise. Every morning, Henry left the Nolans' apartment early and walked over to her house. She met him at her front gate and they continued on to school together. So far, Henry wasn't complaining about the longer walk meaning he needed to get up earlier.

Regina's irritation at being caught off guard faded quickly. "I wish I could be as certain," she admitted. "She almost never leaves her room, except for meals. I had a hard enough time convincing her to step outside yesterday, and even then, she stood in the backyard for about five minutes and then came back in."

"Look at it this way," Archie said. "She knows she has at least one person in this town who is prepared to forgive her."

Regina nodded. "I almost hope that's all it is," she said.

"But you don't think so."

"I am not your patient, Dr. Hopper," Regina snapped back. Before Archie could apologize, however, she waved him to silence and continued a bit more calmly, "But you're right. You're forgetting that I've been where she is. And there is a difference between regretting what you've done and regretting that you've been… thwarted. I don't doubt that my sister is suffering under the weight of the memories we implanted in her. But whether she's starting to understand what she did, or whether she just wants the pain to stop… well, that's something I'm not exactly qualified to determine."

"Well," Archie said, "I am. But until Zelena feels comfortable enough around me to start opening up, I'm afraid I can only observe from a distance. Even so, I can tell she's doing better with you than she was in the secure wing."

"I hope you're right." She looked at the clock mounted on the wall over the counter and lifted her cup. "I should be heading back," she said. "She usually comes downstairs for breakfast around now." She finished the last of her coffee, set the cup down on the table, and pushed back her chair.

As she got up, Archie said, "You know, Regina, if things start to feel overwhelming and you want to talk—even outside of the office, just friend to friend…"

Regina smiled. "I appreciate the offer, Archie. And you're not the first person who's reached out."

Archie beamed back. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. Have you reached back to anyone, then?"

"Not yet," Regina admitted, still smiling, "but I have to admit that it's nice to know that there are people who give a damn." She shook her head. "Two years ago, I'm not entirely sure that even Henry would have fallen into that camp." She sighed. "It's been a long road and I'm just starting to see the light at the end of it. I only hope I can help Zelena to find hers."

"I have a feeling that if anyone can, it'll be you," Archie assured her.

* * *

He didn't think that Ashley had come into his shop since that night, over two years ago, when she'd robbed and assaulted him. He bore her no ill-will for those past actions. The cut on his forehead had healed and her desperation had ultimately led to Emma guiding him to Bae. Still, he wasn't surprised that she was nervous. "Mrs. Herman," he greeted her.

"M-Mr. Gold," she returned. She wheeled the stroller a bit closer to the counter, but stopped several feet away.

Gold frowned. "May I help you?" he asked.

Ashley seemed to gather up her courage. "I-I heard that you're making baby blankets," she said. "With heraldic crests?"

Gold raised an eyebrow. "One was a coronation gift for the young prince. I'm weaving another for my godson," he said, trying to sound casual about _having_ a godson—though he still found occasion to repeat that fact to himself several times a day. "I hadn't given a thought to making more beyond those."

"Oh," Ashley lowered her eyes. "I see. I'm sorry to have bothered you, then. I was hoping to commission something for Alex," she explained, smiling down at the stroller.

Gold frowned. "Not a baby blanket, surely," he said. The girl was nearly three and—from the glimpse he could catch beneath the stroller canopy, big for her age. She had to be out of the cradle by now.

"N-no," Ashley smiled. "For a twin bed. But if you aren't taking orders, then…"

He considered for a moment. "I presume you've brought a sample of the crest?"

Ashley blinked. "Yes, of course," she said, reaching into her purse. She passed a folded paper over.

Gold unfolded it and regarded it with raised eyebrows. "A griffon rampant, gripping a… that would be a _lady's slipper_ orchid, correct?"

"That's right," Ashley said, with some surprise. "I think you're probably the first person who hasn't referred to it as an orchid, or just a flower."

Gold smirked. "Well, what else _could_ it be, all things considered?"

Ashley smiled back tentatively. "You'll do it?" she asked.

"Well," Gold said, "I suppose so, if we can agree on a price." He saw the apprehension in her eyes and sighed. Making that deal hadn't been something he'd enjoyed, but he'd needed to ensure he'd be in the right place when Snow and Charming came looking for the way to break the curse and the contract had merely been a means to an end. "A monetary price," he clarified. "Weaving the blanket will consume a fair amount of my time. And I should caution you that it will need to wait until Marco is able to craft and assemble a floor loom—the one I've been using won't lend itself well to larger projects. I trust you don't need it in a hurry."

"I see," Ashley nodded with some relief. "No, there's no rush, really. It's going to be one thing Alex probably isn't going to outgrow."

"Indeed," Gold nodded. He took another breath. "Come back in three days," he said briskly. "I'll have a better idea of the cost of the raw materials and the time it will take me to complete the commission. Once I have that, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement." This time, he would be able to get all the wool the right color from the start, instead of having to use magic to match the dye lots.

He should have anticipated this, he supposed. Spinning straw into gold had been an end in and of itself. It had ensured that he would never want for wealth and given him an easy way to recompense those who came to do business with him. Since the day he'd exchanged fleece for straw, he'd never sold his spinning for money; his spinning had _been_ the money. His weaving was altogether different. And he had no idea what a fair asking price would be.

As Ashley thanked him and left, he was thinking that this was something he should talk over with Belle later. She would know how to research rates and prices. And he really ought to have this sort of information at the ready, assuming that Ashley wasn't the only one interested in his work.

He was smiling as he headed into the back room, picked up a pen and started jotting down what he needed to find out on a piece of scrap paper. He was in the middle of writing, when the bell over the door jangled. "I'll be a moment," he called, as he wrote two more words down and set the pen aside. He looked longingly at the portable loom. He really wanted to add another few inches to the fabric before he went home for the evening, but a customer beckoned. "Now, then," he said briskly, as he made his way out of the room and pushed aside the curtain that screened it off from the shop floor. "How may I help…?" Then he saw who it was who had just walked in and his smile fell away instantly, to be replaced by a snarl. " _You!?_ "

* * *

She'd been waiting for this opportunity. She couldn't take another day in this state. She couldn't deal with her sister's phony sympathy, or worse, pity. She couldn't take the images that stole into her head when she least expected and would not be willed away or silenced. Even if she tried to concentrate on something else, she could still hear the sick squelch of a heart being yanked from a stable boy's chest, feel the pure horror at being forced to choose between slavery and the loss of a child, rage, frustration, despair… She couldn't even enjoy the brief respites between the waves of foreign memories, because she knew that they would return quickly.

Leaving the house had been almost too much for her. Despite the coat she'd liberated from her sister's closet—worn with the collar up—and the knitted cap she'd found in the boy's bedroom, which she pulled down low, out of doors, she felt exposed.

It made no sense. If anything, the reverse should be true; it felt as though she carried the memories of most of the townspeople, their pains, and their terrors. It was _they_ who had opened themselves up to _her_ , not the other way 'round. But she was still sure that everyone she passed on the street was just waiting for her to get out of earshot before they began laughing at her. Unloved. Unwanted. Failure. Weak. Powerless.

No, she couldn't go on like this for another day. She had to seek out the one person who would be willing to put an end to this… suffering.

The jangling bell seemed to herald her impending freedom, as she pushed open the door to the shop.

* * *

Rumpelstiltskin wasn't sure how it was possible for rage and terror to hang so perfectly together in the balance. He was glad that the counter served as a buffer between himself and the witch; he was well aware that his knees were trembling and his hands were sweating. It didn't matter that she didn't have her magic. It didn't matter that she didn't have his dagger. (Unconsciously, one hand slipped into his suit jacket, double-checking that the weapon was still there). It didn't even matter that he'd given her most of his memories of the year he'd spent as her slave—and thus, they really shouldn't be hitting him with this level of force. As soon as he saw her, the fear, the fury, and the helplessness all seemed to come crashing in on him, as though he'd never given them away.

What was she doing here? He'd known that she was out of the hospital—though he'd never admit it, he was grateful to Regina for making him aware of that salient fact—but he'd certainly never thought that she'd set foot in his shop. Well, he might be frightened, but he wasn't about to let _her_ see it. Instead he felt his back straighten, his head snapped up, and he all but growled, "What do _you_ want?"

Zelena took a ragged breath. "Kill me," she whispered.

He hadn't been expecting that. "I beg your pardon?" he demanded.

"It's too much," Zelena said, still whispering. "I can't take this. I can't imagine feeling any greater pain. I just want this to end. Go on. Avenge your son, like you've been meaning to do since the savior separated you from him. There's nobody here to hold you back this time, Dark One. Just… do it."

With her words, he felt his tension ease and a slow smile spread his lips. She was right. There _was_ nothing stopping him this time. He hadn't lured her into the shop. There were no witnesses. True, the rest of the town would take a dim view if they were to find out, but he could always claim that she'd come here to attack him and he'd acted in self defense. Still… "Bae would never countenance this," he said slowly, as he came out from behind the counter and approached the witch. "But then," his voice took on a wintry chill, "thanks to you," he plunged his hand into Zelena's chest and yanked out her heart, "he's… not… HERE!"

Zelena gasped and doubled over. For a moment, she stared wide-eyed at her heart, pulsing in Rumpelstiltskin's hand. Then a huge relieved smile broke on her face. "Yes!" she hissed. "Do it!"

He should. There was no question that she deserved it. And yet… _And yet…_ Something made him hesitate. The dark whisperings in his mind hooted in disbelief. What was he waiting for? Was he truly so weak, so cowed, that even now he couldn't contemplate harming the woman who had enslaved and humiliated him for so long? Was he truly that broken? He began to tighten his grasp on the heart, but over the triumphant cackles in his head, he seemed to hear other voices cutting through.

 _We need your promise that you'll refrain from any personal acts of revenge or retribution against Zelena, before, during or after the hearing._

 _After everything you've been through, you don't deserve to have another death on your conscience._

 _We made a pact. I thought your word meant something._

 _Rumpelstiltskin, we thank you._

 _Rumple, I love you._

 _Our son has no godparent. Aurora and I were wondering whether you would do us the honor of fulfilling that role._

He could practically feel Belle's arm around his shoulders, smell her perfume, feel her hand in his. She wouldn't want him to do this. But after everything Zelena had done… _I'm sorry, Belle,_ he thought. _And sorry to the rest of you, too. I'm simply not the man you think I can be…_

 _…_ _yet_

He blinked. The new voice repeated it. _You aren't the man they think you can be, yet. But you're closer to it than you think. Come on, Papa. I didn't bring you back so you could return to being the man I left behind in the Enchanted Forest. You're better than this._

Bae?

But Bae was dead, forever lost to him. And the woman responsible was slumped before him, begging for justice. And yet… His hand contracted again and Zelena gasped.

"You are going to pay," he snarled, "for everything you've done," he squeezed the heart, "to me… to Belle… to my son… and to everyone else in this town." With every word, he gave the heart another squeeze and was rewarded with another cry of pain. When he was finished, the witch's face was almost chalk white, she was slumped against the door, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps. Still, she smiled.

After a moment, she realized that Rumple was still holding her heart, but that he was no longer squeezing it. "Wh-what are you waiting for?" she demanded. "Just get it over with."

Rumple nodded and a faint smirk came to his lips. He knew which path to take now. "With… pleasure," he replied. His hand tightened about her heart. And then, in one savage motion, he shoved it back into her chest, smiling at her choked "No!" He didn't release the heart, though. Instead, he stood facing her, his hand still wrapped about her heart, his arm sticking out of her torso.

"Come on, Rumple," she pleaded. "Crush it. Just do it. Crush it."

Rumple tilted his head at her quizzically. "Now why on earth," he asked almost gently, "or in any other realm, would I want to put you out of your misery? I just told you that you were going to pay for the pain you inflicted, and I'm certainly not about to do anything to mitigate that pain."

Zelena shook her head as shocked comprehension dawned in her eyes. "Please," she whispered, "just kill me."

"Oh no," Rumple smiled. "I'm not going to make things that easy for you, dearie. But I will do you one favor: a moment ago, you said that you could imagine no greater pain than that which you are currently enduring. Permit me to expand your horizons." So saying, he squeezed her heart again, more tightly than he had before, but stopped short of crushing it utterly. Zelena screamed. "In future," Rumple continued, relaxing his hand, "I think you'll find your imagination much improved. Now," icy menace crept into his voice as he released her heart and drew his hand from her chest, "get… _out_ … of my… SHOP!"

Zelena gave him one horrified look, before she yanked open the door and fled, stumbling, out into the street.

After she was gone, Rumple locked the door, went into the back room, and spent the next twenty minutes at the loom, waiting for his own heart to stop pounding before he went back to the outer room to unlock the door again.

* * *

A/N: It's all over but the epilogue!


	29. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Belle knew something was wrong the moment she walked into the shop. Usually, Rumple dropped whatever he was doing and came out from behind the counter to meet her. Instead, while he glanced up with a quick smile, he immediately resumed polishing the knickknacks in the case to her left. "Rumple?"

He gave her an apologetic look. "You kept things in a better state of repair in my absence," he said. "I'm afraid I've let the grime build up somewhat."

Belle smiled. "I… uh… have some experience with dusting and polishing. Maybe I can start on one of the other cases."

He nodded. "Well, if you'd like," he returned. "It would be a help." He picked up another piece of statuary and made a show of holding it up to the light. With his back to her, he murmured, "Zelena was here."

Belle was heading into the back room to get another polishing cloth, but stopped in her tracks and felt her heart lurch. "Are you all right?" she asked sharply.

He was silent for a moment. Finally, he turned to face her and said softly, "Not yet."

"What… what did she want?" she asked as she quickly closed the distance between them.

He sighed. "Something I came very close to giving her." Slowly, haltingly, he related what had transpired earlier. When he was finished, Belle shook her head sorrowfully.

"Oh, Rumple," she whispered. She cupped his face in her hands for a moment. Then she gripped his shoulders and pulled him close.

"You… you aren't angry?" he asked.

Belle shook her head. "With you? No. I…" She hugged him harder. "I don't know how you held yourself back from doing worse."

"It was a near thing," he admitted. "Belle. You've always seen the man behind the beast, but you need to understand that that beast will always be present. And I won't always be able hold it in check."

"But you did today," Belle smiled.

Rumple nodded. "Barely."

"Today, you held it in check."

"Barely. And I still… indulged it."

"But you didn't give in completely, Rumple." She released him, but immediately wrapped an arm around both of his shoulders. "You know, uh, Henry's been coming into the library to try to catch up on schoolwork; it seems that the curriculum here is different in a few places from what it was at his old school, so he's trying to learn what he's missing on his own."

Rumple frowned. "I don't see what that has to do with—"

Belle smiled. "You will. See, he was explaining to me about how his work is graded. Rumple, anything over sixty percent right is still a pass, even if it's not perfect." She locked her eyes on his and nodded slightly. "I'm not saying that you handled things the best way you could have, but Rumple, that doesn't mean you failed."

Rumple considered that for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he nodded. A sad smile came to his lips. "Do you recall," he began hesitantly, "what I asked you when I returned from Neverland? At that time, I… truly thought that I had conquered that beast inside me. I thought that I could be the man you wanted. The man you deserved. I… asked you a question then—one I'd never have found the courage to ask if I hadn't been certain of your answer. Belle," his voice broke, "I… am not that man..."

"Not yet," Belle replied, squeezing his hand when he didn't continue.

Rumple's lips twitched briefly as he acknowledged her correction. "Not yet," he repeated. Then, more soberly, "But not now. And, perhaps, not ever. I may control the darkness for a time, but it will always struggle to break free and there will be times when it will almost certainly succeed. Knowing that… understanding that…" He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet her eyes, "if I were to ask you now what I asked you a year ago, would your answer still be what it was then?"

Belle was silent for a moment. Then, slowly, still smiling, she replied, "Why don't you ask me and find out?"

* * *

Henry sat at his computer and reread the email he was typing to Leonora. So far, he'd remembered to thank her for the early Christmas gift—a printable e-voucher for the Dragon Country store in Passamaquoddy, 'just in case you needed another excuse to visit,' she'd explained. She had a point. Although the store had an online shopping option, Henry had seen enough issues with the Storybrooke town line to know that he couldn't count on a delivery truck being able to make it to his front door on any given day—if the driver could even find the town on a map.

 _I'm hoping I'll be able to get there the last week in June_ , he typed. _Grandpa and Belle are getting married on June 20_ _th_ _. I guess you already know that, since they emailed you and Pete your invitations already. By the way, you can tell your uncle that they're both looking forward to the cruise. It must be great to be able to just pick up and rent a boat whenever you feel like it and go off for as long as you want to._

 _Anyway, it's really awesome of your uncle to take them on a boat tour of the coast for their honeymoon. I know Belle's always wanted to travel, but I think she got a little freaked out when she started looking at how big Boston and New York are. It's not just how many people live there. I think her whole duchy might have not have been much bigger than Boston and she told me it was mostly small towns and open country. Grandpa seems a little more okay with big cities, but he did go to New York once, with me and my mom. He didn't do a lot of sightseeing then, mind you. It wasn't that kind of trip. I talked about to Mom about it and she said something I didn't really understand about a Wal-Mart in Calay. Did I spell that right? My spellcheck just redlined it. If I find out what she meant, I'll tell you._

 _So, Mom and I were thinking: if Belle and Grandpa are going to be leaving from Passamaquoddy, it means someone has to take them there. So if all four of us drive up to you, once Belle (I should probably start calling her 'grandma' after the wedding) and Grandpa leave with your uncle, maybe we'll stick around for a bit. (Wait. Was your uncle going to take the boat into Storybrooke Harbor and pick them up in town? Probably not a good idea if he's hiring a captain instead of steering it himself. Mom [Regina] says the concealment spells are still up around town.)  
_

 _I'm kind of feeling sorry for Grandpa right now. I think he and Belle were just planning a small, quiet wedding. And if he hadn't saved Neal and helped my mom fight the witch (I don't think you know how weird it feels to actually type this!) and all that other stuff, they'd probably have got away with it. Grandpa didn't really have a lot of friends here before all that happened. Most people kind of left him alone unless they needed his help. But once Aurora saw the ring on Belle's finger, it was like she decided that if she's not running a kingdom anymore, she's going to run a wedding. Or, at least,_ _their_ _wedding. And then she talked to my other grandparents and Grandma (Snow White, I mean) got all excited for them too. And then she talked to Regina, and I think now that the only way they'll get that quiet wedding is if they drive off somewhere in the middle of the night. If they decide to do that and they show up at your motel, could you tell me? Just so I can let everyone else know they're okay?_

 _Anyway, I'd better get my homework done. We're all going to Granny's for dinner. Emma and Grandma (you're not getting confused with Grandma and Granny, are you? When I say Grandma, I mean Snow White. Though I guess it'll get confusing again when I start calling Belle Grandma, too!) have been working on Christmas dinner ahead of time and I don't think they feel like cooking anymore tonight. And somehow, "dinner at Granny's" never means just my grandparents, my moms and me. It means the dwarfs. It means Hook. He and Emma are dating now. I don't know how serious it is. It usually takes my mom a while before she decides she likes a guy and since the last guy she dated and really liked turned out to be a flying monkey, I'm not going to assume it's serious until she tells me, or until she's been dating him for longer than eight months. And Regina won't come tonight, because she doesn't want to leave Zelena alone. But for the first time, Grandpa and Belle are coming too!_

 _Guess I'll sign off for now. Hope you like the photos. I know we gave you a tour when you came here, but the snow makes everything look different. Say 'hi' to Elliott for me. And your uncle, too._

 _Talk to you soon,_

 _Henry_

* * *

Gold looked up as the bell over the shop door tinkled. "Emma," he said, smiling. "I was just about to close up." He saw the expression on her face. "Is something the matter?"

Emma shook her head. "Not really. I had a visit from Mr. Claypole today."

Gold frowned. "From the funeral home? What business would he have with you?"

Emma gave him a sad smile. "He was doing some organizing and he realized that he still had Neal's wallet. I guess he—Mr. Claypole, I mean—must not have realized Neal was your son, or else he thought he should give these to me, because…" As she was talking, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled something out. "I had no idea Neal kept them all these years, but I thought you might want first pick. I'll let Henry choose second."

Gold blinked when he saw what Emma had spread out on the counter. The three black-and-white photographs had clearly been attached to each other originally. Each showed a much-younger Emma… and Bae. They were mugging for the camera, even though in the first shot, Bae's eyes were closed; in the second, Emma's mouth was gaping open, and in the third, neither of them were looking directly at the lens. "I…" He reached out a hand toward the photos, almost reverently.

"They're not the greatest shots," Emma admitted, "but what can you expect from an automatic booth?"

Gold didn't answer. He was still staring at the photos. "He… you both look so happy," he whispered.

"We had some good times," Emma nodded. "Some _really_ good times."

"May I keep these for a little while?" Before Emma could reply, Gold spoke again. "Or rather…" He waved his hand over the counter. Two identical sets of photos appeared below the originals. "Now we can each have a complete set," he said.

The room seemed to swim before Emma's eyes. "Thank you," she managed.

Gold shook his head. "Thank _you_ , Emma."

She forced herself to smile and nod. "So," she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact, "I guess I'll head home and unwind before we head over to Granny's. You're still coming, right?"

"Provided we can get through the meal without _someone_ making another suggestion about corsages and boutonnieres," Gold sighed.

Emma grinned. "Well, if you want to skip all that and head to Vegas, I can probably print you a route off of Google Maps."

Gold shook his head ruefully. "Belle has forgiven me for many things," he returned, "but somehow, I suspect that she'd draw the line at that suggestion. Besides, she _should_ have every extravagance and this may be the one time she'll allow it."

"And I get the feeling you don't mind the fussing nearly as much as you let on."

Gold smiled. "Perhaps not."

"Can you believe it's really happening?"

Gold seemed to consider her words seriously. "I'm trying to," he replied, but he was no longer smiling. "Still," he shook his head, "I suppose that, at the back of my mind, I still hear the last words I spoke to my father: Villains don't get happy endings." He waited for her to tell him that he was being foolish.

She didn't. "I've been thinking about that," she admitted. "And I get why you're worried. But I think you might be overlooking something."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Emma continued. "See, according to Henry, my 'job' is to bring back the happy endings."

Gold frowned. "That may be true, but…"

"No buts. Hear me out. My job is to bring back the happy endings. It's not just to bring them back for the people who were heroes all along. It's to bring them back, period. That includes you too, you know."

"While I appreciate the sentiment," Gold sighed, "I'm not sure you have the faintest idea how to go about accomplishing that goal—if it can even be done."

Emma shrugged. "You know something?" she grinned. "You're right. I have absolutely no proof that what I'm saying is right… or even if it's possible. But sometimes, I guess a person just has to take a leap of faith and see what happens."

Gold's eyes widened as he recognized her words and a smile spread slowly across his face. "You know, Emma," he said slowly, "I do believe you may have something there…"

 **The End**


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